M  p  \\  \J 


TO 

T.  H.  H., 

WITH  A  KISS  OR  TWO. 


CAUF. 


MARVEL. 


CHAPTER  L 

*  Hark !  hark !  deep  sounds  and  deeper  still 

Are  howling  from  the  mountain's  bosom. 

•  ****• 

Earth  groans  as  if  beneath  a  heavy  load.* 

AROUND  the  house  the  wind  was  crying  with  a  mournful 
vehemence,  every  now  and  again  flinging  great  heavy  drops 
of  rain  against  the  window  panes.  The  moon  and  stars, 
that  half-an-hour  ago  were  shining  with  an  exquisite 
bruliance,  now  lay  hidden  behind  banks  of  sullen  clouds, 
and  the  fitful  gusts  of  wind  that  dashed  round  the  corners 
and  moaned  through  the  pine  branches  spoke  of  storm 
before  the  morning,  whilst  up  from  the  sea  came  the  sad 
monotonous  roar  of  the  waves  as  they  thundered  against 
the  giant  rocks. 

The  night,  however,  was  full  of  a  sultry  heat  that  made 
even  the  small  fire  burning  in  the  library  grate  almost 
oppressive.  The  casements  were  closed,  but  the  curtains 
were  not  drawn,  and  the  sad  sounds  of  the  rising  storm 
penetrated  through  everything. 

"  There  is  thunder  in  the  air,"  said  Lady  Mary,  looking 
up  thoughtfully.  She  spoke  in  a  subdued  tone,  as  if  a 
little  awed  by  the  majesty  of  the  elements  without,  and 
she  let  her  hands  fall  idly  on  her  knees  as  she  listened 
gravely  to  the  ever-growing  tumult. 

She  was  a  woman  who  looked  older  than  she  really  was, 
with  a  face  beautiful  still,  in  spite  of  many  years  of  much 
trouble  and  settled  ill-health.  A  tall,  stately  woman,  with 
severely  aristocratic  features  and  a  bearing  not  to  be  ac- 
quired. She  was  knitting  placidly,  the  fine  red  silk  she  was 
using  throwing  out  the  pallor  of  her  small  hands.  Occasion- 


2130480 


2  MAKVEL. 

ally  she  lifted  her  head  to  cast  a  glance  of  unaffected  tender- 
ness upon  a  lad  of  about  fifteen,  who  was  bending  over  a 
book  at  a  small  table  near.  A  reading  lamp  stood  on  this 
table,  and  the  boy's  face  betokened  rather  the  earnestness 
of  study  than  the  enjoyment  to  be  had  of  ordinary  light 
reading. 

He  was  her  nephew,  the  son  of  her  dead  brother,  the 
last  of  his  name.  In  him — this  youthful  earl — all  her  hopes 
were  centred,  and  she  lavished  upon  him  a  mother's  love 
—she  who  had  never  been  a  mother. 

A  sensitive  change  passed  over  her  face  as  the  storm 
swelled  and  grew.  On  just  such  a  night  as  this  her  brother, 
Lord  Wriothesley,  the  father  of  the  lad  over  there,  had 
been  thrown  from  his  horse  and  brought  home  to  The 
Towers  lifeless.  On  such  a  night — long  years  ago — her 
true  love,  to  whom  she  was  to  have  been  married  on  that 
day  week,  was  drowned  off  St.  David's  Head.  Alas,  for 
such  storms  as  these  !  they  boded  no  good  to  that  old  race 
to  which  she  belonged,  and  which  was  now  fast  drawing  to 
its  close.  She  sighed  heavily  and  leant  back  in  her  chair. 
Once  more,  mechanically,  her  fingers  took  up  and  con- 
tinued the  knitting,  whilst  her  eyes  travelled  with  an  absent 
gaze — dedicated  not  to  the  living  but  to  the  dead — round 
the  octagon  room  in  which  she  was  sitting. 

It  was  a  charming  room,  lofty  and  very  carefully  treated 
in  its  arrangements.  There  was  no  overcrowding,  no 
pressure  of  furniture.  One  could  stretch  one's  arms  in  it. 
The  bookcases  reached  from  floor  to  ceiling  in  the  goou 
old-fashioned  style,  and  there  was  no  glass  to  hide  their 
treasures.  There  was,  perhaps,  too  palpable  a  suspicion  of 
an  age  now  exploded,  in  the  solidity  of  the  central  table 
and  in  some  of  the  chairs,  but  this  was  rectified  by  the 
presence  of  the  low  soft  satin-lined  couches  pushed  here 
and  there,  very  nests  of  comfort,  and  in  the  dainty  tables 
that  stood  in  every  corner.  Exquisite  curtains,  too,  with 
threads  of  gold  running  through  them,  hung  before  the 
windows,  and  from  the  olive  green  walls  priceless  statuettes 
stood  out  prominently  on  carved  brackets. 

Another  burst  of  wind,  full  of  a  greater  ferocity  than  any 
gone  before,  now  swept  round  that  side  of  the  house  where 


MARVEL.  3 

the  library  was,  driving  a  heavy  shower  of  rain  against  the 
windows. 

"  What  a  night ! "  said  Lady  Mary  with  a  nervous 
start.  The  lad  slowly  withdrew  his  attention  from  the 
page  before  him,  and  looked  at  her. 

"  I  like  it,"  he  said.  He  threw  up  his  head  as  though 
drawing  in  and  enjoying  the  warfare  without.  "  What  a 
sea  there  must  be  on  to-night."  He  pushed  back  his  chair 
and  walked  towards  the  window  nearest  him.  Half-way 
across  the  room,  however,  he  came  to  a  standstill.  His 
face  paled,  and  his  eyes  took  an  eager  strained  expression. 
He  was  evidently  listening  for  something.  At  the  same 
moment  Lady  Mary  cried  out  abruptly  : 

"  What  was  that  ? "  She,  too,  had  risen,  and  now 
moved  nearer  to  the  boy.  Her  tall  figure  was  drawn  up 
to  its  full  height ;  her  fine  eyes  were  alight ;  all  the 
petty  tremours  that  had  shaken  her  a  while  agone  now 
left  her  and  gave  place  to  a  sudden  courage.  She  stood 
calm  and  self-possessed,  yet  filled  with  a  strange  fear. 

Through  the  storm  a  shrill  wild  cry  was  ringing,  a  faint 
and  wailing  cry,  yet  strong  enough  to  pierce  the  riotous 
roar  of  the  gale,  and  the  dashing  of  the  rain-drops  on  the 
gravel  without.  It  was  the  cry  of  a  child  in  sore  distress 
— a  miserable  despairing  scream. 

Again  it  reached  them.  Nearer  now,  it  seemed,  yet  so 
tossed  hither  and  thither  by  the  tempest  that  one  scarce 
knew  from  what  point  it  came.  It  was  more  plaintive, 
more  exhausted  now,  and  was  horrible  in  its  hopelessness, 
because  youth  and  hope  should  go  ever  hand  in  hand.  It 
was  a  wail  that  knew  no  cessation,  and  every  moment 
brought  it  closer. 

"  Summon  the  servants — some  creature  in  distress — " 
cried  Lady  Mary.  She  made  a  rapid  movement  towards 
the  bell. 

"No,  no.  I  will  go  myself,"  said  the  boy,  walking  to 
the  window  that  opened  on  to  a  long  balcony. 

"  In  this  storm,  Fulke  !  In  this  rain  !  Oh  !  no  dar- 
ling," entreated  she,  but  he  was  not  listening  to  her. 
With  eager  fingers  he  undid  the  fastenings  of  the  casement, 
and  as  he  stood  thus,  with  arms  uplifted,  in  an  attitude  that 

I 2 


4  MARVEL. 

to  one  outside  might  look  protective,  there  came  a  sharp 
tapping  at  the  glass  below  him.  It  was  rapid,  continuous, 
and  full  of  the  passionate  vehemence  of  a  terrified  child. 
All  through  this  tapping  the  cry  rang  ceaselessly. 

Lord  Wriothesley  pulled  open  the  casement  with  a 
vigorous  hand,  and  there  shivering  in  the  vast  wild 
darkness  stood  such  a  little  forlorn  thing  as  made  their 
blood  run  cold. 

It  was  a  child — a  mere  baby.  The  cloak  that  had  been 
wrapt  round  it  had  fallen  back,  and  now  the  pretty, 
rounded,  uplifted  arms  were  dripping  with  the  rain. 
The  soft  yellow  locks,  that  should  have  been  some  mother's 
tenderest  pride,  were  tangled,  dark,  and  saturated  with 
wet.  The  small  face  looked  ghastly.  Tears  fell  from  the 
eyes,  and  gasping  sobs  from  the  red  lips. 

At  this  instant  another  violent  gust  arose,  and  rushing 
past  the  poor  little  thing  caught  her,  and  dashed  her  against 
the  side  of  the  open  window.  The  tiny  baby  hands 
clutched  convulsively  at  the  wood-work,  in  a  vague, 
instinctive  fashion.  No  cry  escaped  her  now.  Her 
strength  seemed  gone. 

"  It  is  a  child.  A  child !  "  cried  Lady  Mary  in  a  horri- 
fied tone.  She  hurried  towards  her,  but  the  little  one  had 
caught  sight  of  Wriothesley,  and  held  out  her  arms  to  him, 
and  as  he  ran  eagerly  to  her,  and  caught  her,  and  lifted  her 
into  the  warmth  within,  she  clung  to  him  with  such  a  sense 
of  sudden  safety,  as  made  itself  felt,  and  went  to  the  boy's 
heart. 

The  little  wet  arms  clasped  his  neck.  The  frightened 
face  was  pressed  against  his  shoulder.  She  was  too  young 
to  argue,  but  she  knew  that  she  was  safe.  She  was  with 
friends.  The  rain  no  longer  made  her  cold.  The  howling 
wind  was  not  in  here.  And  better  than  all  else  the  awful 
darkness  could  be  no  longer  felt. 

Lady  Mary  took  her  now,  and  placed  her  on  the  hearth- 
rug close  to  the  cheery  fire,  and  shook  out  her  dripping 
hair.  She  was  drenched  through  and  through.  A  maid 
was  hastily  summoned,  and  presently,  in  a  miraculous  way, 
clothes  were  produced  fit  for  the  tiny  visitor's  use — 
borrowed  no  doubt  from  the  good  woman  at  the  lodge, 


MAEVEL.  $ 

whose  babies  swarmed  all  over  the  place.  In  these 
the  little  stranger  was  dressed.  Her  pretty  hair  was 
dried,  and  shone  now  in  the  lamp-light  like  threads  of 
gold  ;  and  her  large,  grave,  wistful  eyes — melancholy  eyes 
for  a  creature  barely  four  years  old — lit  up  a  singularly 
pretty  face. 

When  Lady  Mary  questioned  her  as  to  her  name,  she 
would  say  nothing  beyond  a  quaint  monosyllable  that  no 
one  could  understand.  "Mg"  it  sounded  like,  but  the 
most  enlightened  English  folk  could  make  little  of  that. 

"  I  confess  it  is  too  much  for  me,"  said  Lady  Mary,  who, 
with  the  child  on  her  lap,  was  feeding  it  with  tea  and  cake, 
with  a  culpable  disregard  of  quantity.  "  It  hardly  matters, 
however.  She  has  strayed,  no  doubt,  poor  little  thing,  and 
to-morrow  we  shall  be  able  to  find  and  restore  it  to  its 
parents.  Dear,  dear,  how  unhappy  her  poor  mother  must 
be  to-night." 

"  I  think  she  must  be  a  stranger's  child,"  said  the  boy, 
who  was  kneeling  on  the  hearthrug  and  staring  at  the  baby, 
who  delighted  him  by  her  solemn  gaze.  "The  servants 
know  every  soul  in  the  village,  but  they  don't  know 
her." 

"Nan — na?"  said  the  child,  glancing  inquiringly  round 
her  and  then  up  into  Lady  Mary's  face.  The  latter  laughed 
and  kissed  the  earnest  eyes. 

"  That  doesn't  tell  us  much,"  she  said.  "  See  how  she 
laughs  now !  "What  a  pretty  rogue  it  is.  I  wish  I  could 
make  out  her  name." 

"  Perhaps  she  hasn't  an  earthly  one.  Perhaps  she  has 
dropped  from  the  skies,"  said  Fulke  laughing.  "  If  so  we 
shall  have  to  give  her  one." 

"  Scarcely  worth  while  for  one  night,  is  it  ?  " 

"  Why  yes.  We  must  have  some  way  of  addressing  her 
whilst  she  is  our  guest." 

"  It  should  be  a  marvellously  pretty  name  to  suit  her," 
said  Lady  Mary,  gazing  tenderly  into  the  little  one's 
charming  face. 

"  Why,  there  !  you  have  christened  her,"  cried  Wriothesley 
gaily.  "  She  shall  be  called  Marvel,  even  though  it  be  for 
this  night  only.  Marvel,"  bending  towards  the  child,  "  do 


6  MARVEL. 

you  like  your  new  name,  baby  ? "  The  child  nodded  her 
head  sagely,  and  then  wriggled  down  off  Lady  Muy's  lap 
and  toddled  up  to  him.  As  he  took  her  in  his  arms 
the  door  was  opened,  and  the  maid,  who  had  undressed 
the  little  wanderer  a  while  since,  again  entered  the 
room. 

"  If  you  please,  my  lady,  we  found  this  locket  pinned 
inside  the  child's  dress,"  she  said.  As  she  spoke  she 
held  out  a  flat  gold  locket,  very  plain,  and  rather 
battered. 

There  was  surprise  in  Lady  Mary's  face  as  she  took  it 
She  looked  at  it  seriously  for  a  moment,  as  if  hesitating, 
and  then  opened  it.  Inside  was  the  picture  of  a  young 
man,  with  a  handsome  aristocratic  face,  but  reckless,  and 
with  a  touch  of  displeasing  mockery  in  the  light  blue  eyes. 
The  mouth,  however,  was  beautifully  formed,  and  the  brow 
broad  and  open. 

Having  dismissed  the  maid  Lady  Marv  glanced  thought- 
fully from  the  picture  to  the  child  and  back  again.  No, 
there  was  no  likeness. 

"  It  is  strange,"  she  said  to  the  boy,  who  had  come  to 
lean  over  her  shoulder  and  look  at  the  portrait.  "  It  is  not 
an  ordinary  face,  is  it  ?  It  is,  too,  the  face  of  a  gentleman." 
She  paused  and  looked  towards  the  child,  who  was  now 
curled  up  in  the  centre  of  a  huge  white  rug,  and  slowly,  but 
surely  giving  herself  up  an  unwilling  prey  to  sleep.  "  And 
that  poor  baby,"  she  went  on  speaking  to  herself,  "  out  in 
that  storm  alone — forsaken.  What  can  be  the  meaning  of 
this  ?  "  She  spoke  vaguely,  and  the  boy  only  caught  a  word 
here  and  there.  She  was  evidently  very  much  perplexed, 
and  a  little  sad.  She  viewed  the  sleeping  child  with 
an  altered  expression — one  even  kinder,  tenderer  than 
before. 

"  We  shall  know  all  about  it  to-morrow,"  said  Fulke,  who 
felt  she  was  disturbed 

"To-morrow,  perhaps.  And  now  go  to  bed,  darling." 
She  drew  his  head  down  to  her  and  kissed  him  warmly. 

"And  the  baby?" 

"  Somers  will  take  charge  of  it  to-night." 

"  Good-night,  little  Marvel,"  said  the  boy,  stooping  over 


MARVEL.  7 

the  child  and  pressing  his  lips  to  her  cheek.     "  To-morrow 
will  tell  us  your  real  name." 

But  it  was  many  years  before  the  real  name  was  learned. 
The  morning  broke,  bright  with  sunlight,  and  as  calm  and 
clear  as  though  last  night's  storm  had  never  been,  but  it 
brought  to  The  Towers  no  anxious  mother  crying  for  her 
child.  Day  after  day  went  by,  week  after  week  they  waited, 
but  still  the  child  remained  as  alone  in  the  world,  as  though 
she  had  indeed,  as  Fulke  had  said,  "  dropped  from  the 
sky."  Advertisements  were  put  in  all  the  papers,  and 
private  inquiry  was  made,  but  with  no  result.  And  at  last 
Lady  Mary's  secret  belief  that  the  child  had  been  purposely 
abandoned  became  a  public  one.  Not  cruelly  abandoned, 
perhaps,  in  spite  of  that  terrible  storm,  but  flung  within 
Lady  Mary's  reach,  trusting  to  the  tales  of  clemency  and 
love  that  grew  like  blossoms  through  her  life,  and  endeared 
her  to  all  the  villagers. 

But  no  village  child  was  this  !  The  regular  features,  the 
fine  hair,  the  delicately  formed  nails  on  tiny  hands  and  feet, 
all  precluded  the  idea.  That  she  had  been  deserted  was 
beyond  doubt,  but  by  whom  ?  and  by  what  class  ?  Lady 
Mary  felt  a  touch  of  indignation,  that  grew  even  stronger 
as  her  eyes  fell  upon  the  little  one  dancing  gaily  in  the 
sunlight  on  the  terrace  walk,  hugging  to  her  breast  a  horrible 
doll — noiseless,  eyeless,  hairless.  She  was  such  a  lovely 
bit  of  Nature's  best  work  that  it  seemed  to  Lady  Mary  a 
wanton  waste  of  one  of  Heaven's  sweetest  gifts  to  let  her 
go  thus  cruelly  adrift. 

Her  kind  eyes  moistened  as  she  looked  at  the  little 
forsaken  being,  a  tender  unsullied  thing,  a  young  pure 
soul  for  whom  her  Lord  had  died.  Of  what  could  that  one 
have  been  made  who  could  send  her  floating  upon  the  cold 
sea  of  this  world's  charity  ?  She  was  still  meditating  mourn- 
fully on  the  strange  story,  the  bare  commencement  of 
which  lay  in  her  hands,  when  the  child  saw  her,  ran  to  her, 
and  with  a  fond  certainty  of  welcome  flung  herself  into  her 
arms.  After  that  Lady  Mary  forgot  to  pursue  her  painful 
thoughts.  She  caught  the  child  to  her  heart,  and  from  that 
hour  accepted  her  as  her  own  child. 


8  MAEVEIh 


CHAPTER  II. 

THE  years  fled  swiftly,  and  as  by  degrees  servants  left,  died, 
or  got  married,  and  others,  strangers  to  that  part  of  the 
country,  took  their  places,  that  wild  night's  work  fell  into 
the  background,  and  the  child  came  to  be  considered  as 
part  of  the  family. 

She  was  at  first  an  amusement,  then  a  joy,  and  at  last  a 
comfort  to  Lady  Mary,  whose  health  did  not  improve  as 
time  wore  on.  She  took  the  little  one  into  her  inmost 
heart,  and  cherished  her  there  without  detriment  to  the 
love  she  bore  Fulke.  In  but  a  little  while,  as  it  seemed  to 
her,  the  boy  sprang  into  early  manhood,  got  his  commission 
in  the  Hussars,  and  quitted  the  home  nest.  But  the  child 
remained.  Of  course,  Wriothesley  turned  up  at  the  old 
quarters  every  now  and  then,  very  frequently  in  fact,  but 
naturally  he  had  ceased  to  be  part  of  the  quiet  life  there, 
and  his  coming  was  an  event  in  spite  of  their  efforts  to 
think  it  otherwise. 

Lady  Mary  missed  him  more  than  she  confessed,  even 
to  herself,  and  clung  to  the  child  with  an  eager  fondness, 
that  grew  stronger  each  time  Fulke  came  and  went.  She 
was  such  a  pretty  creature  !  Day  by  day  she  expanded 
into  a  fairer  beauty,  into  rarer  charms  of  mind  and  body. 
Fulke,  who  always  declared  he  and  Lady  Mary  had 
christened  her,  and  who  insisted  on  calling  himself  her 
godfather,  held  stoutly  to  the  name  given  her  on  that 
eventful  night,  and  so  Marvel  she  had  remained.  It  suited 
her,  he  said,  as  time  transformed  the  pretty  baby  into  a 
charming  little  girl,  whose  hair  was  the  colour  of  copper, 
with  the  sun  shining  on  it,  and  whose  unfathomable  grey 
eyes  were  grave  and  serene  as  a  summer  lake. 

Lady  Mary  took  great  pains  with  her  education.  A 
governess  beat  into  her  fertile  brain  all  the  English  that  a 
girl  should  know,  and  three  times  a  week  masters  came 
from  town.  Marvel  accepted  them  all,  and  was  docile 
and  obedient,  and  imbibed  their  knowledge  with  little 
trouble  to  herself ;  but  the  delight  she  felt  in  learning  she 
reserved  for  such  Irssons  as  the  rector  gave  her,  with  whom 


MARVEL.  9 

she  was  a  special  favourite.  He  was  unmarried,  a  student, 
a  book-worm ;  a  strange  man,  self-centred  up  to  this  ;  but 
the  child  took  hold  of  him  and  dragged  him,  whether  he 
would  or  not,  into  the  warm  sunlight  of  her  own  young  life. 
By  degrees  he  grew  to  love  her,  and  coaxed  her  into  read- 
ing with  him  at  such  odd  hours  as  he  could  give  her ;  and 
with  him  she  wandered  hand  in  hand,  o'er  flood  and  fell, 
and  into  the  mystic  sweetness  of  the  woods,  learning  at 
every  step  a  great  fresh  truth — the  ways  of  birds,  the 
music  of  the  insect  world,  the  tender  growth  of  the  tiny 
flowers  that  thronged  around  their  footsteps,  and  all  the 
giad,  mysterious  joys  of  Nature. 

It  was  an  isolated  life  she  lived,  but  one  hedged  in  by 
love.  There  was  only  auntie,  as  she  called  Lady  Mary, 
and  her  governess,  and  the  rector,  and  Fulke.  Only 
sometimes  Fulke,  which  gave  him,  perhaps,  a  charm  in  her 
eyes  the  others  did  not  possess.  He  came  so  seldom. 
Each  time  his  stay  seemed  shorter  than  the  last.  He  was 
so  good  to  her,  and  in  her  eyes  he  was  so  brave,  so  tall, 
so  handsome,  that  all  her  tender  childish  affection  went 
out  to  him,  and  she  gave  him  out  of  the  warm  treasure  of 
her  heart  an  innocent,  faithful  love. 

The  first  knowledge  of  the  world's  pain,  the  first  touch 
of  anguish  came  to  her,  through  him.  He  sailed  for  India, 
and  suddenly  it  seemed  to  her  as  if  the  whole  earth  had 
grown  empty.  What  a  void  his  going  left !  He  started, 
full  of  hope  and  pride  as  a  young  soldier  should,  leaving 
behind  him  a  sad  old  woman  whose  every  desire  was 
bound  up  in  him,  and  a  slender,  mournful  child  who  was 
hardly  to  be  consoled.  It  was  a  poignant  grief,  but  time 
softened  it.  And,  indeed,  time  was  given  it  to  die  alto- 
gether before  Wriothesley  again  set  foot  on  English  soil. 


Through  the  half-closed  curtains  the  warm  June  sun 
was  pouring  its  blinding  rays.  From  the  garden  beneath 
uprose  a  perfume,  straight  from  the  hearts  of  the  flowers 
that  floated  gently  into  the  room.  Marvel,  with  a  little 
sigh  of  ecstasy,  flung  wider  the  window  and  leaned  oui 


io  MAEVEL, 

until  her  pretty  head  became  entangled  \vith  the  roses 
that  drooped  from  the  wall  next  her. 

She  was  dressed  in  a  simple  white  cambric,  made  rather 
loosely  at  the  throat,  from  which  some  deep  old  lace  fell 
softly.  She  moved  her  head  rapturously  from  side  to  side, 
as  if  drinking  in  the  beauty  of  the  scene,  which  was  as 
perfect  a  one  as  fair  England  could  boast.  Beyond — the 
rising  hills,  with  the  patches  of  pale  green  verdure,  on 
which  the  sun  rested  lovingly,  and  with  here  and  there  a 
monster  fir  to  catch  the  eye ;  there — the  glimpse  of  undu- 
lating park  with,  in  the  far  west,  a  sparkle  of  lake  water, 
and  here,  beneath  her,  the  swelling  woods,  the  velvet  lawn, 
the  brilliant  pasture  and  the  merry,  chattering,  babbling 
stream.  It  was  all  so  full  of  life,  so  calm,  so  satisfying, 
and  the  girl  herself  seemed  a  fitting  part  of  it.  She  looked 
the  very  incarnation  of  youth  in  her  white  dress,  a  creature 
halfchild,  half-woman,  with  a  still  s'umbering  heart. 
Smiles  came  readily  to  her  lips.  Her  eyes  had  forgotten 
their  tears.  She  lived  in  the  present  and  took  no  thought  for 
the  future,  so  happy  was  the  life  she  led.  The  child's  hair 
had  been  copper,  the  girl's  was  an  exquisite  chestnut,  soft, 
wavy,  crowning  a  forehead  that  was  both  broad  and  pure. 
The  baby  mouth  had  expanded  and  changed,  as  the  mouth 
of  a  child  must,  but  the  deep  gray  earnest  eyes  remained 
the  same.  They  were  very  tender,  very  true,  and,  some- 
how, they  held  one.  The  rector,  who  loved  her,  said  once 
that  they  made  him  unhappy  for  her.  They  were  the  eyes 
of  a  dog,  solemn,  faithful 

It  was  early  yet ;  nine  o'clock  had  only  just  been  struck, 
with  quite  a  reprehensible  waste  of  time,  by  the  slow,  old 
clock  on  the  corridor.  Marvel  had  come  upstairs  with  her 
auntie's  breakfast  and  "the  post,"  and  was  now  waiting 
whilst  Lady  Mary  sipped  her  chocolate  and  dipped  into 
her  correspondence.  There  were  many  maids  at  "The 
Towers,"  but  one  sweet  maiden  only  brought  Lady  Mary's 
tray  to  her  bedside  every  morning.  No  other  hands  but 
Marvel's  should  touch  it,  no  other  face  but  hers  introduce 
it  between  the  satin  curtains  of  the  ancient,  if  elaborately 
beautiful  old  poster,  that  Lady  Mary  would  not  resign  for 
the  handsomest  "  modern  "  in  the  universe.  She  was  very 


MARVEL.  II 

feeble  now,  dear  thing,  and  quite  unequal  to  rising  before 
noon. 

The  girl  was  still  luxuriating  in  the  delicious  view  when 
an  agitated  voice  from  within  roused  her  from  her  musing. 

"Marvel,  come  to  me.  He  is  to  be  here  on  the  ipth. 
I  have  had  a  definite  line  from  him.  The  ipth,"  cried 
Lady  Mary  in  her  eager,  feeble  way. 

She  laid  down  the  foreign  letter  she  was  holding  and 
looked  at  the  girl,  who  stood  transfixed  as  if  hardly  be- 
lieving. 

"Yes.  It  is  true.  The  igth;  I  thank  God  for  it.  My 
dear,  dear  boy." 

As  she  leant  back  upon  her  pillows  she  looked  so  frail, 
so  languid,  as  she  reclined  there  that  one  almost  wondered 
how  life  still  dwelt  in  her.  A  little  flush,  however,  born  of 
the  glad  news,  made  her  face  bright. 

"I  shall  see  him  again,"  she  said,  extreme  gratitude 
in  her  tone,  as  she  took  up  the  letter  and  began  to  read  it 
aloud  to  Marvel.  "  He  writes  from  'Gib,'  as  he  calls  it," 
with  a  soft,  little  laugh  ;  "  and  in  such  spirits,  dear  fellow." 

"The  i  gth,"  said  the  girl.  "Why,  it  is  quite  close! 
It  sounds  like  to-morrow.  And  after  all  these  long  years. 
Oh,  it  is  incredible." 

"  Nonsense,  dear  child.  Why,  we  have  been  looking 
forward  to  it  for  the  last  six  months." 

"  I  know.  And  yet  it  never  seemed  impossible  until 
now,  when  it  draws  so  near.  I  wonder,"  she  hesitated, 
and  then  went  on,  *'  I  wonder  if  he  will  be  changed  ? 
Greatly,  I  mean.  It  all  seems  so  long  ago.  When  he 
went  I  was  only  twelve,  now  I  am  seventeen,  and  he  must 
be  twenty-eight.  Quite  old,  it  sounds.  Doesn't  it  ?  " 

"  Quite  young,  dearest,"  said  Lady  Mary  a  little  sadly. 

One  of  the  servants  at  this  moment  opened  the  door, 
and  with  a  little  courtesy  to  Lady  Mary,  addressed  Marvel : 

"  Mrs.  Bunch  desired  me  to  sa%  Miss  Craven,  that  she 
would  be  very  much  obliged  if  you  could  come  to  her  to 
the  still-room.  She  would  have  come  to  you,  but " 

"  I  shall  be  there  in  a  few  minutes,"  said  Marvel.  Mrs. 
Bunch  was  the  housekeeper,  and  of  late  Marvel  had  given 
all  the  household  directions.  The  servants,  indeed,  every 


12  MARVEL. 

one,  called  her  Miss  Craven,  that  being  the  Wriothesley 
family  name.  The  poor  child  had  no  name  of  her  own,  so 
Lady  Mary  had  lent  her  one. 

Marvel  made  a  sign  to  the  girl,  who  withdrew. 

"Would  you  like  me  to  speak  now  to  Bunch  of  his 
rooms — Fulke's  ?  "  she  asked.  "  The  old  suite,  I  suppose. 
But  years  make  things  look  dingy,  and  I  think  the  rooms 
would  require " 

"  Everything,"  cried  Lady  Mary  with  a  touch  of  her  old 
impulsiveness.  "I  would  have  nothing  less  than  perfec- 
tion. What !  is  it  not  his  home-coming  ?  What  then 
should  we  spare  ?  See  to  it,  dearest.  It  is  his  own  house, 

remember,  and  why  should  he .  Now  that  I  think  of 

it,  Marvel,  now  that  he  has  come  to  man's  estate,  surely  a 
better  suite  should  be  assigned  him.  The  west  wing  has 
some  nice  rooms,  eh  ?  " 

"They  would  be  strange  to  him,"  objected  the  girl 
tenderly.  "Let  him  have  the  old  ones — those  he  has 
been  picturing  to  himself — when  first  he  comes ;  they  will 
seem  more  like  home.  Afterwards  he  can  arrange  as  he 
likes."  She  came  nearer  to  Lady  Mary,  and  stooping  over 
her,  kissed  her.  "  Do  you  know,"  she  said  slowly,  with  a 
pretty  childish  regret  in  her  tone,  "  I  don't  like  those 
words  of  yours,  '  Man's  estate.'  Oh,  auntie,  I  wish  he  was 
a  boy  again." 


CHAPTER  IIL 

**At  whose  sight  all  the  stars 
Hide  their  diminished  heads." 

THE  conservatories  were  admirably  cool,  although  the  re- 
ception rooms  outside  were  warm  to  languor,  in  spite  of  all 
the  efforts  made  to  insure  a  bearable  temperature.  The 
lights  were  brilliant,  and  the  heavy  sleepy  odour  of  in- 
numerable Dijon  roses  filled  the  air.  Now  and  then  "  the 
voice  of  one  that  singeth"  was  uplifted,  and  the  rising  and 
falling  of  liquid  notes  travelled  in  a  dreamy  fashion  to 


MAKVEL.  13 

those  who  were  not  happy  enough  to  have  secured  a  place 
near  to  the  singer. 

It  was  one  of  the  Hon.  Mrs.  Verulam's  musical  evenings, 
and  nearly  every  one  worth  knowing  in  town  was  present. 
It  was  very  much  overcrowded,  and  the  heat  was  stifling, 
but  people  like  a  crowd ;  and  women  especially,  in  spite  of 
their  protests  to  the  contrary,  think  nothing  of  any  affair 
that  does  not  half  squeeze  them  to  death.  There  were  a 
good  many  dim  recesses  and  suggestive  ante-chambers, 
but  these  were  given  up  to  the  sentimental  few,  and  every 
one  for  the  most  part  was  in  the  glare  of  the  lamp-light. 

It  was  considerably  after  midnight  when  a  young  man 
entering  an  ante-chamber  added  yet  another  unit  to  the 
^..-i.^y  too  numerous  guests.  He  made  his  way  to  where 
he  saw  Mrs.  Verulam  standing  in  a  cloud  of  corn-coloured 
net,  with  here  and  there  in  it  a  gleam  of  yellow  topaz. 

"  At  last,"  she  said,  giving  him  her  hand.  "  I  had 
ceased  to  hope.  I  had  quite  given  you  up." 

"  I  had  given  myself  up  for  the  matter  of  that,"  returned 
Lord  Wriothesley.  "  But  I  knew  how  to  wait,  and,  as  you 
see,  all  things  have  come  to  me." 

"  So  embarrassed  as  all  that  ? "  said  she,  arching  her 
pretty  brows.  "  A  man  so  rich  is  singularly  ungrateful 
to  wear  a  countenance  dissatisfied  as  yours."  She  laughed 
maliciously,  and  leaning  towards  him  said  with  an  affecta- 
tion of  sympathy,  "  Who  is  she,  then  ?  Can  I  help  you  to 
«iok  for  her  ?  " 

"Who  should  I  be  looking  for?  Have  not  I  found 
you?" 

"  That  suffices,  my  good  cousin ;  I  shall  let  you  off  the 
rest,"  retorted  she,  making  him  a  little  moue.  "  We  have 
loved  each  other  too  well  and  too  long  for  that.  Yet  one 
more  question.  Why  are  you  not  at  The  Towers  just  now? 
You  were  due  there  on  the  igih.  Eh?" 

"  Business,  business,  business ;  that  most  hateful  of  all 
things.  I  fancied  myself  sure  of  my  leave,  or  I  shouldn't 
have  named  the  igih  when  writing  to  Lady  Mary;  but  the 
fact  is  the  colonel  can't  let  me  off  until  the  day  after 
to-morrow." 

"  Metal  more  attractive,"  said  she,  just  the  vaguest  sus- 


I4  MARVEL. 

picion  of  reproach  in  her  tone.  They  were  cousins,  and 
the  very  best  friends,  and  she  had  not  liked  to  believe  this 
of  him — disrespect  to  the  dear  old  Craven  woman,  who 
was  her  aunt  as  well  as  his,  and  the  being  she  admired 
most  on  earth  ! 

"  It  isn't  like  you  to  wrong  me,"  he  said  gravely.  "  The 
metal  is  not  forged,  attractive  enough  to  keep  me  from  my 
allegiance  to  that  dearest  of  women.  Believe  me,  I  feel 

the  hours  long  that  keep  me  from  her  and  from "  with 

a  little  laugh — "her  baby.  You  will  not  misjudge  me 
now  ?  " 

"  Oh  no  !  Your  word  was  ever  as  good  as  your  bond. 
And  I  was  wrong  to  doubt,  of  course  ;  but  one  hears  so 

many  things  in  this  gossiping  Babylon,  and "      She 

checked  herself  abruptly.  "  As  to  auntie,"  she  went  on, 
"you  will  find  her  as  charming  as  ever,  but  rather  more 
frail.  A  mind  as  heavenly  as  hers  could  hardly  inhabit 
a  robust  body.  And  her  baby !  She  has  grown  out  of 
your  knowledge,  I  doubt,  into  a  tall,  slim,  willowy  thing, 
straight  as  a  wand,  but  for  all  else,  she  is  a  baby  still." 

She  seemed  a  little  enthusiastic  on  this  subject,  and 
might  have  said  a  good  deal  more  on  it,  but  she  stopped 
abruptly,  seeing  something  in  Wriothesley's  face  that 
puzzled  her.  For  one  thing  he  was  not  attending,  and  he 
was  looking  over  her  shoulder  at  some  object  behind  her. 
He  did  not  actually  start,  but  an  undefinable  light  sprang 
into  his  eyes.  It  was  a  light  not  to  be  mistaken  by  so 
clever  a  student  of  human  nature  as  she,  and  it  betrayed 
him  to  her. 

"  Ah  !  so  she  is  here  to-night,  after  all,"  she  said  slowly. 
She  turned  her  head  and  looked  to  where,  at  the  end  of 
the  room,  stood  a  small  group  of  four  or  five  persons. 
They  had  only  just  entered  the  ante-chamber,  which  was 
larger  than  most,  and  the  central  figure  stood  out  from  the 
others  rather  prominently.  She  was  a  tall  woman,  ex- 
tremely slight  without  being  lean,  clad  in  an  exquisite 
brocade  of  an  aqua-marine  shade.  The  others  of  the 
group  were  men,  and  they  seemed  to  follow  her,  and  bend 
over  her  with  an  assiduity  that  bespoke  an  eager  desire  to 
please.  Her  face  was  peculiar,  and  certainly  would  not 


MARVEL.  15 

strike  one  at  the  first  glance  as  being  handsome,  yet  after 
even  a  short  study  of  it,  one  found  it  difficult  to  forget. 
It  was  a  haunting  face,  the  more  so  that  it  was  inscrutable, 
and  without  vivacity.  There  was  not  even  a  suspicion  of 
colour  in  it,  and  the  eyes,  remarkably  large  and  deep,  gave 
it  the  appearance  of  even  greater  pallor  than  it  possessed. 
Her  hair  was  chestnut,  of  so  ripe  a  tint  that  it  very 
narrowly  escaped  being  red,  but  it  and  the  unfathomable 
eyes  were  the  things  that  refused  to  quit  the  memory  when 
she  herself  had  gone  by. 

The  aqua-marine  brocade  gave  no  warmth  to  her  pale 
face,  but  was  meant  perhaps  to  throw  out  the  brilliancy  of 
the  hair  and  eyes.  If  so,  the  idea  was  an  immense  success. 
Fragile  sprays  of  clematis  formed  her  shoulder-straps,  and 
her  long  arms,  though  -slender,  were  exquisitely  formed, 
and  shone  against  the  vague  green  of  her  gown  with  a 
dazzling  fairness. 

The  little  throng  of  courtiers  pushed  towards  her  a 
fauteuil,  and  she  sank  into  it  with  a  languid  grace;  the  long 
white  arms  fell  across  her  knees. 

"  So  it  is,  Mrs.  Scarlett,"  said  Mrs.  Verulam,  turning 
again  to  her  cousin,  and  speaking  with  some  excitement  in 
her  tone.  "My  dear  Fulke,  I  can  hardly  congratulate 
you." 

"  Certainly  not.  It  is  far  too  soon,"  parried  he  with  a 
laugh  and  a  purposed  misunderstanding  of  her  words. 
She  felt,  however,  there  was  meaning  in  his  answer,  and 
that  he  wished  her  to  learn  even  at  this  early  hour  that  it 
would  be  wise  to  refrain  from  uncivil  mention  of  the  lady 
in  question. 

"  Ah,  so  / "  she  said  a  little  coldly.  "  It  is,  of  course, 
well  to  understand  things.  You  knew  Mrs.  Scarlett  in 
India?" 

"  For  a  month  or  six  weeks — a  mere  moment  out  of 
one's  life.  I  made  her  acquaintance  just  before  leaving, 
in  fact." 

"  She  returned  to  England  in  your  ship,  did  she  not  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  Another  six  weeks  !  Why,  you  are  quite  old  friends. 
I  have  heard  that  a  sea  voyage  ripens  friendship  as  swiftly 


16  MAKVEL. 

as  an  Italian  sun."  She  spoke  now  in  the  usual  indifferent 
society  tone,  and  without  any  of  the  playful  kindliness  of  a 
moment  since. 

"  So  have  I.  It  has,  however,  hardly  ripened  the  friend- 
ship you  speak  of.  As  yet,  Lady  Scarlett  and  I  are  mere 
acquaintances." 

"  She  does  not  look  like  any  man's  acquaintance,"  said 
Mrs.  Verulam  vaguely.  "  He  should  be  all  in  all  or  not  at 
all  to  her,  I  should  fancy.  Her  slave  or  nothing." 

Wriothesley  glanced  quickly  at  her. 

"You  dislike  her  ?  "  he  said. 

"  Dislike  her.     No.     Why  should  I  dislike  her  ?  * 

"  I  wonder  why  you  asked  her  here." 

"  As  to  that,  one  must  follow  the  fashion,  and  she  is  the 
fashion  now.  Her  fame  travelled  from  India  faster  than 
she,  and  though  we  know  she  was  originally  only  the 
daughter  of  a  petty  country  squire,  still  we  are  all  cnragecs 
to  get  her  to  come  to  our  houses." 

"  Her  fame  ?  "  questioned  he.  It  seemed  to  be  all  that 
he  had  heard. 

"  As  the  cleverest  beauty  of  her  time  !  By-the-by,  who 
is  that  with  her  now  ?  " 

An  old  man  had  joined  the  group  round  Mrs.  Scarlett 
and  was  shaking  hands  with  her. 

"  The  Duke  of  Dawtry,"  said  Wriothesley. 

"Naturally;  I  should  have  known."  Mrs.  Verulam  was 
silent  for  a  moment,  and  then  "  Considering  who  she  was, 
I  must  do  her  the  justice  to  say  she  has  made  very  con- 
siderable running  in  a  short  time,"  she  said.  "  Alone  too  ! 
Very  little  help  was  given  her." 

"  You  forget  she  married  well,"  said  Wriothesley,  who 
was  keeping  his  brow  clear  by  a  superhuman  effort. 

"Oh!  That  poor  old  Mr.  Scarlett!"  returned  Mrs. 
Verulam,  with  a  contemptuous  shrug.  "  He  was  useful,  no 
doubt — as  the  stepping-stone  to  the  society  beyond. 
By  his  means  she  was  enabled  to  make  her  bow  to  the 
world.  He  took  the  theatre  for  her,  as  it  were ;  the 
bell  rang,  the  curtain  went  up,  and  lo  !  there  she  was  before, 
it  must  be  confessed,  a  very  appreciative  audience.  She  has 
proved  herself  a  huge  success,  but — to  aspire  to  a  duke !  " 


MARVEL.  17 

She  paused  to  look  at  him,  and  it  seemed  to  her  that 
though  he  kept  his  face  impassive,  he  drew  his  breath 
somewhat  sharply. 

•"  You  mean ?  "  he  said. 

"Just  that,"  with  an  eloquent  little  nod.  "It  is  rather 
a  flight,  isn't  it?  but  true  for  all  that.  She  has  him  at  hei 

feet  morning,  noon,  and Well,  I  expect  morning  and 

noon  is  good  enough,  we  need  not  follow  it  farther.  He 
too,  you  see,  made  her  acquaintance  in  India,  whither  he 
went  last  year  for  pig-sticking,  as  he  said,  though,  poor  old 
gentleman,  I  should  have  said  the  pigs  would  have  stuck 
him  had  they  come  to  close  quarters." 

"  You  regard  the  duke  as  an  aspirant  to  her  hand  ?  " 
asked  Wriothesley. 

She  could  not  fail  to  remark  that  his  face  had  grown 
remarkably  pale. 

"  Ah  !  That  is  going  so  far,"  she  said.  She  smiled 
curiously  and  looked  down  at  the  fan  she  was  slowly  moving 
too  and  fro.  "  To  her  hand  ?  Oh  !  it  is  impossible  to  say 
as  much  as  that.  But  as  an  aspirant  to  her  favour " 

She  broke  off  calmly,  and  left  her  speech  to  be  continued 
by  any  one  that  chose. 

"You  are  charming  always,  dear  cousin,"said  Wriothesley, 
who  was  very  pale.  "  But  one  small  point  you  forget,  the 
forbearance  that  a  hostess  owes  to  her  guest." 

He  bowed  very  low  to  her  and  crossed  the  room  to  where 
Mrs.  Scarlett  sat  enthroned  amidst  her  courtiers.  He 
stood  on  the  outskirts  of  her  kingdom,  until  presently  it 
melted  away  sufficiently  to  let  him  feel  himself  almost  alone 
with  her.  His  Grace  of  Dawtry  still  remained  with  a  few 
others,  but  he  stood  now  apart,  conversing  with  a  minister 
who  had  made  himself  famous  over  the  Irish  question. 

As  Wriothesley  approached  her,  Mrs.  Scarlett,  who  very 
seldom  gave  any  man  her  hand  in  greeting,  received  him 
with  a  smile. 

"  You  are  late,"  she  said.  Her  voice  was  low,  clear, 
trainante.  Her  curious  eyes  dwelt  on  him  for  a  second  or 
so,  as  if  in  study,  and  then,  apparently  satisfied  with  what- 
ever knowledge  she  had  gained,  she  let  them  fall  again. 

Wriothesley's  eyes  flashed. 

a 


i8  MARVEL, 

"  That  is  a  kinder  thing  than  you  have  said  to  me  for 
many  a  day.  It  at  least  permits  me  a  faint  hope  that  you 
have  missed  me,"  he  said. 

There  was  some  surprise  in  the  glance  she  turned  upon 
him,  but  in  a  moment  it  changed  to  one  of  veiled  amuse- 
ment, and  she  leaned  back  in  her  chair  and  smiled.  At 
all  times  her  smile  was  uncommon,  and  difficult  of  com- 
prehension. It  was  here  and  gone  almost  in  a  breath, 
almost,  before  one  was  aware  of  it,  and  yet  it  made  itself 
felt,  and  clung  to  one's  memory  in  a  cruelly  persistent 
fashion.  There  was  an  instant  lighting  of  the  strange  eyes, 
swift  too,  as  ever  lightning  was — a  veritable  electric  flash — 
a  sudden  parting  of  the  lips,  and  then  it  was  all  over. 
The  pale  face  caught  back  its  calm  again,  and  one  might 
almost  believe  the  smile  had  never  been. 

"It  is  you  who  have  missed  something,"  she  said. 
"  More  than  you  know." 

"  Not  more  than  I  know."  He  looked  at  her  very 
earnestly.  "  You  I  miss  always,"  he  said,  "  and  these  last 
interminable  hours  in  which  I  have  been  kept  from  you  in 
spite  of  all  my  efforts  have  been  worse  than  death." 

His  face  precluded  the  idea  of  exaggeration  that  his 
words  might  suggest.  That  he  was  fatally  honest  in  what 
he  said  was  hardly  to  be  mistaken.  Again  that  flickering 
smile  swept  her  lips. 

" That,  perhaps,"  she  said.  "But  I  hardly  alluded  to 
so  poor  a  loss  as  you  would  suggest.  What  you  indeed 
did  lose  was  one  of  Riccolo's  happiest  efforts;  he  sang  just 
now  sweeter  than  any  nightingale." 

He  made  an  impatient  gesture  and  a  slight  frown  settled 
on  his  forehead.  His  eyes  met  hers  with  a  passionate 
reproach  in  them  that  seemed  to  afford  her  once  again  some 
small  amusement. 

"  How  you  give  yourself  away,"  she  said.  "  Have  you 
no  thought  for  the  morrow  ?  If  you  expend  your  entire 
stock  of  sentiment  now,  what  will  you  have  in  the  future  ?" 

"  You — I  hope,"  returned  he  promptly. 

She  had  not  expected  such  a  daring  answer,  and  for  a 
moment  was  silenced  by  it. 

"  You  are  bold,"  she  said,  yet  the  boldness  of  his  wooing 


MAUVE!*,  19 

seemed  to  please  her.  She  drew  her  skirts  aside  as  if  to 
grant  him  a  seat  beside  her. 

"  No.  Do  not  let  us  stay  here,"  he  entreated.  "  Let 
me  take  you  to  a  place  where  one  can  breathe.  The 
conservatories  are  comparatively  speaking,  cool." 

"  So  I  have  been  told  ever  since  I  came.  It  is  the  cry 
on  every  lip.  The  rooms  are  purgatory,  the  conservatories 
paradise,  come,  let  us  enter  therein." 

"Well?  you  went,  you  proved  it  true?"  There  is  a 
jealous  ring  in  his  voice  that  does  not  escape  her. 

"  I  proved  nothing.  Because  I  withstood  all  blandish- 
ments, and  up  to  this  have  clung  to  my  purgatory.  No,  I 
did  not  go." 

"  But  you  will  now,"  said  Wriothesley  impetuously.  He 
bent  over  her.  His  eyes  sought  and  met  hers.  He  was 
very  handsome,  and  suddenly,  almost  without  her  know- 
ledge as  it  were,  she  found  she  had  risen  and  was  moving 
with  him  across  the  room. 


CHAPTER  IV. 
u  My  heart  is  not  to  be  moulded  as  she  pleases ! " 

THIS  singular  abandonment  of  herself,  this  volition  which 
was  hardly  of  her  own  doing,  astonished  her,  and  gave 
quite  a  zest  to  the  movement.  She  could  have  laughed 
aloud  at  herself,  so  strange  seemed  to  her  this  swift  surren- 
der of  her  will. 

As  she  passed  by  the  Duke  of  Dawtry  the  old  man 
started  and  came  to  her. 

"  What !  going  ?  "  he  said. 

She  smiled — her  pretty  evanescent  smile,  but  said 
nothing. 

"  So  soon  ?  You  leave  us  indeed  desolate,"  went  on  the 
old  beau  with  that  air  of  courteous  gallantry  that  had  dis- 
tinguished him  thirty  years  ago.  "A  cruel  resolution  to 
come  to." 

"I  am  not  perhaps  so  cruel. as  you  believe  me,"  saia 

2 2 


20  MAKVEL. 

Mrs.  Scarlett  in  a  low  tone.  She  spoke  very  softly,  and 
the  glance  that  accompanied  her  words  was  lingering  and 
replete  with  reproachful  meaning,  and  the  old  man 
coloured  beneath  it  as  though  he  were  a  lad  of  eighteen. 
"  I  am  not  going  home  as  you  I  think  imagined.  I  am 
merely  about  to  test  the  differences  of  certain  temperatures 
with  Lord  Wriothesley,  who,  I  believe,  is  learned  on  such 
matters." 

She  had  gone  on  a  step  or  two  when  the  duke  overtook 
her. 

"  You  will  be  at  home  to  morrow  ?  "  he  asked  hurriedly 
in  a  whisper  that  was  yet  not  low  enough  to  be  unheard  by 
Wriothesley  for 

u  Lovers'  ears  are  sharp  to  hear." 

"  From  one  to  three,"  returned  she  calmly. 

She  went  on  again,  and  Wriothesley  who  accompanied 
her  felt  that  his  heart  was  beating  with  a  very  unpleasant 
force  and  that  a  sudden  miserable  suspicion  was  weighing 
down  his  heart.  He  made  no  attempt  to  break  the  silence 
that  had  fallen  upon  them,  and  Mrs.  Scarlett,  who  was 
naturally  quiet,  did  not  help  him  to  make  conversation. 

They  entered  a  long  conservatory  on  the  south  side  of 
the  house  and  walked  up  one  of  its  fragrant  green  sides 
without  encountering  any  one.  The  place  seemed  deserted. 
Tiny  coloured  lamps,  infinite  in  number,  swung  from  the 
roof,  and,  from  amongst  the  branches  of  the  taller  shrubs, 
giving  a  rather  Eastern  air  to  the  scene,  and  the  sweet  odour 
of  tube-roses  and  heliotropes  mingled  and  blended  into 
one  delicious  whole  all  round  them. 

From  the  tall  drooping  shrubs  fell  showers  of  fragile 
blossoms  that  strewed  the  floor  and  floated  in  the  marble 
basins  of  the  fountains,  whose  scented  waters  dropped,  with 
a  rhythmical  chant,  into  their  bosoms. 

"  Will  you  sit  here  ?  "  said  Wriothesley,  indicating  a  low 
lounge  that  gave  room  for  two.  But  Mrs.  Scarlett  gliding 
by  it  seated  herself  upon  a  little  frail  spindle-legged 
chair. 

"You  spoke  the  truth,"  she  said.  "It  is  cool  after  that 
furnace  beyond.  Well — ,"  looking  straight  at  him  and 


MARVEL.  21 

speaking  quickly,  "how  is  it  you  are  not  down  in  the 
country  with  those  old  people  of  yours  ?  " 

"  There  is  but  one  old  person,"  said  Wriothesley  gravely. 
"My  aunt,  Lady  Mary  Craven.  She,"  gently,  "is  my  more 
than  mother." 

"  One  !     But  you  told  me  of  two  who  expected  you." 

"  The  other  is  my  aunt's  ward.     A  girl.    A  mere  child." 

"  A  child.     Of  what  age  then  ?  " 

"  Seventeen  perhaps.  I  am  not  sure,"  said  Wriothesley 
carelessly. 

"  There  is  no  such  thing  as  a  child  of  seventeen,"  said 

Mrs.    Scarlett    rather   brusquely.     "At  that   age,   I ." 

She  paused  abruptly,  and  her  face  darkened  ;  she  grew 
suddenly  rigid  as  one  might  who  was  dwelling  on  some 
long  past  but  ever  hateful  remembrance,  and  suddenly  a 
bursting  sigh  broke  from  her  lips.  Her  fingers  closed 
spasmodically  upon  her  fan,  and  her  nostrils  dilated.  A 
moment  was  sufficient  to  contain  all  this,  and  Wriothesley, 
whose  thoughts  were  still  filled  with  his  jealous  fears,  saw 
nothing  of  it.  It  was  all  over  very  quickly.  By  the  help 
of  her  powerful  will  she  conquered  the  momentary  weak- 
ness, and  the  face  she  now  turned  to  him  was  as  calm  and 
immovable  as  usual. 

"  Tell  me,"  she  said,  "  when  is  it  you  go  to  see  this 
child?" 

"  To-morrow  I  go  to  see  my  aunt.  As  for  her  ward, 
she  was  a  remarkably  sweet  1'ttle  soul  when  last  I  saw  her, 
and,  I  confess,  it  will  be  a  pleasure  to  me  to  see  her  too 
again,  as  it  will  be  to  gaze  upon  the  parks  and  woodlands 
of  my  home,  and  all  things  that  association  have  made 
dear." 

He  spoke  simply  and  with  sincerity.  Mrs.  Scarlett  bit 
her  lips,  and  opened  and  shut  her  fan  with  a  little  crashing, 
noise.  His  whole  manner  raised  within  her  a  very  demon 
of  envy.  Great  heaven  !  how  long  it  was  since  she  felt  like 
that !  If  she  could  only  feel  it  again  !  The  cruellest  part 
of  it  all  was  the  memory  of  the  time  when  she  had  felt  it  1 
She  drew  her  breath  sharply. 

"And  how  long  do  you  intend  to  remain  in  your 
Arcadia?"  she  asked  with  a  slight  sneer.  "For  ever? 


Once  imbued  with  its  charms  the  world  no  doubt  will  cry 
to  you  in  vain.  Am  I  to  give  you  to-night  an  eternal 
farewell.  Have  you  brought  me  here  to  receive  it  ?" 

She  spoke  jestingly,  but  there  was  something  in  her  large 
violet  eyes  that  roused  him. 

"  Bid  me  return,"  he  said.  "  Say  but  one  word,  and  you 
"know  the  disposal  of  me  lies  with  you." 

"  To  return !     But  how  if  I  bid  you  stay  ! " 

"  I  know  you  too  well  for  that,"  returned  he  with  a 
tender  smile.  "  Even — even  if  I  could  be  of  any  use  to 
you,  you  would  not  grudge  me  to  the  dear  old  woman  for 
awhile." 

She  was  clever  enough  to  understand  that  it  would  be 
unwise  to  press  the  subject. 

"And  what  of  the  little  one?"  she  said  still  lightly, 
though  her  strange  eyes  were  full  of  fire. 

"  Why  will  you  dwell  on  her  ?  I  tell  you  she  is  of  no 
account,"  said  Wriothesley  impatiently.  "  What  is  she  to 
you  or  me  ?  " 

"  I  hardly  know .  And  yet ."  With  a  sudden 

shaking  off  of  the  languor  habitual  to  her  she  rose  to  her 
feet.  "  This  I  do  know,"  she  said,  "  that  I  hate  her  ! " 

There  was  something  terrible  in  the  intensity  of  her  tone 
and  the  expression  of  her  face,  which  had  grown  ghastly. 
She  stood  there  drawn  up  to  her  fullest  height,  shivering, 
trembling  as  if  with  some  unknown  dread.  He  was  almost 
frightened  by  the  change  in  her,  but  presently  with  a  little 
sigh  she  recovered  herself,  and  dropped  back  again  into  her 
chair. 

"  Who  should  imagine  me  so  absurd  ?"  she  said,  with 
a  touch  of  angry  self-contempt.  "It  is  to  you,  to  you 
alone  I  so  betray  myself.  And  that  poor  innocent,  that 
cousin  of  yours,  why  should  I  dread  her  ?  " 

Wriothesley,  who  had  taken  little  heed  of  the  last  part  of 
her  speech,  did  not  contradict  her  as  to  the  relationship. 
A  vague,  sweet,  wild  hope  that  she  was  jealous  of  this  girl 
liad  worked  a  very  madness  of  joy  within  his  breast.  To 
be  jealous  is  to  love  !  Did  she  love  him  ?  The  very 
thought  was  intoxication.  He  pressed  her  back  upon  her 
seat,  and  fell  at  her  knees  and  clasped  them. 


"  My  beloved ! "  he  said  in  a  choked  voice,  and  then, 
"  Leonie,  hear  me.  Let  me  speak  at  last.  That  I  love  you 
is  understood ;  but  my  anguish  of  to-night,  who  shall  under- 
stand that  ?  "  He  lifted  a  face  that  had  grown  suddenly 
haggard,  to  hers.  "  It  is  not  true  what  they  say,  is  it  ? 
That  you — you — let  that  old  man  follow  you  about,  make 

love  to  you,  and  that  you "     He  bent  his  head  upon 

her  knees,  and  she  could  feel  his  whole  frame  trembling — 
"  encourage  him.  My  darling !  My  soul !  say  it  is  not 
so.  .  .  See  now,  Leonie,  I  am  young.  I  am  rich.  Oh  ! 
how  thankful  I  am  for  that !  Why  should  he  be  preferred 
before  me  ?  " 

"  Why  indeed.  And  who  told  you  that  he  was  ?  "  Her 
voice  was  singularly  soft  and  low.  It  was  meant  for  his 
soothing,  and  it  fulfilled  its  task.  She  was  a  little  upset  by 
his  vehemence,  and  a  little  unnerved.  What  if  any  one 
should  come  in,  and  see  him  kneeling  here  at  her  feet,  and 
so  disturbed.  What  if  Dawtry  should  hear  of  it  ?  Better 
to  quiet  him  at  once,  and  so  get  rid  of  him. 

But  not  altogether.  It  would  be  folly  to  break  with  him 
entirely  until  the  old  man  should  have  declared  himself. 
When  that  happened  it  would  be  time  enough  to  cast 
Wriothesley  adrift.  And — and — suppose  the  duke  should 
fail  her,  what  parti  of  the  season,  except  the  duke,  was  as 
desirable  as  Wriothesley?  Truly,  it  would  be  folly  to 
discard  him  so  soon. 

The  fertile  brain  of  her  drags  in  and  threshes  out  all 
this,  even  whilst  he  kneels  at  her  feet,  with  all  his  heart 
laid  open  to  her. 

"  What  is  that  old  man  to  me  ?  "  she  said  treacherously. 
"  Do  not  say  anything  you  do  not  mean,"  cried  Wriothes- 
ley fiercely.     He  caught  her  hands  and  pressed  them  to  his 
lips.     "I  beseech  you,  above  all  things,  be  honest  with 
me." 

He  was  honest  enough  himself  at  all  events.  His  large 
eloquent  eyes  burning  into  hers  bespoke  a  world  of  unadul- 
terated affection. 

"  Why  should  you  suspect  me  ?  "  said  she  gently.  She 
did  not  chide  him  for  his  violence,  or  seek  to  disengage  her 
hands  from  his  embrace.  She  took  in  the  beauty  of  him  as 


he  knelt  there  before  her,  pale  and  earnest,  and  was  for  the 
moment,  so  far  womanly,  that  she  cursed  fate  that  Daw  try 
was  not  such  an  one  as  he. 

"  Give  me  one  word  of  hope,"  entreated  he  vehemently. 

He  might  have  said  more,  but  luck  was  on  her  side,  and 
circumstances  so  fell  out  that  she  was  saved  the  necessity 
of  a  reply.  The  musical  dropping  of  the  waters  was  broken 
by  the  sound  of  approaching  footsteps.  Wriothesley  rose  to 
his  feet  and  stood  beside  her,  as  two  or  three  people,  talk- 
ing, laughing,  advanced  towards  them,  and  seated  them- 
selves on  an  ottoman  near.  All  hope  of  a  continued  tete-&- 
tetc  was  at  an  end.  He  could  not  speak,  but  his  eyes  were 
eloquent  as  they  rested  on  hers.  She  plucked  a  flower  from 
the  bouquet  she  held  and  gave  it  to  him.  To  him  it  seemed 
a  kindly  answer  to  his  prayer.  In  reality  it  was  given  with 
a  view  to  calming  him.  He  thrust  it  hurriedly  into  his 
breast. 

"  You  go  to  your  home  to-morrow,"  she  said  softly.  "  I 
shall  see  you  the  day  after." 

"  What  an  eternity  lies  between  now  and  then  !  "  he  re- 
plied passionately.  "  Oh  !  that  one  could  annihilate  those 
empty  hours." 


CHAPTER  V. 

"  Her  birth  was  of  the  wombe  of  morning  dew, 
And  her  conception  of  the  joyous  prime." 

HE  had  elected  to  walk  from  the  station  to  his  old  home, 
which  was  but  a  mile  or  so  from  the  village.  All  his  way 
lay  through  a  glorious  stretch  of  woodland  and  meadow, 
full  to  overflowing  with  old,  sweet  memories  to  him.  Each 
footstep  awoke  in  him  a  strange  sense  of  the  unreality  of 
the  present — of  the  undying  vitality  of  the  past.  As  he 
came  within  view  of  the  house,  and  whilst  he  was  yet  a 
long  way  from  it,  he  saw  the  tall,  shaggy  deerhound,  that 
had  been  but  a  baby  when  he  left,  stalk  leisurely  through 


MARVEL,  25 

the  open  hall  door  and  stand  looking  meditatively  southward 
to  where  the  ocean  lay.  He  was  evidently  waiting  for 
some  one,  and  presently,  as  if  tired  of  his  inaction,  he 
planted  his  forefeet  firmly  on  the  upper  step,  and  drawing 
himself  backwards  gave  himself  a  mighty  shake. 

A  moment  later  a  tall  slight  figure  joined  the  dog,  and 
stooping  patted  it  fondly.  The  deerhound  rose  in  answer 
to  that  loving  greeting  and  placed  its  huge  paws  upon  the 
girl's  shoulders.  Wriothesley  could  see  it  all  as  he  ap- 
proached through  the  shrubberies ;  the  girlish  form  clothed 
in  white,  with  the  splendid  brute  standing  upright,  gazing 
rapturously  into  her  face  and  wagging  his  tail.  The  whole 
scene  might  have  been  wrought  in  marble.  The  shrubs 
grew  thicker  there  and  he  lost  sight  of  the  perfect  picture, 
and  when  he  emerged  again  into  a  larger  light  he  was  very 
close  to  the  house.  The  girl  was  still  there,  however,  with 
the  dog  now  crouching  at  her  feet.  Wriothesley  gazed  at 
her  intently.  Could  that  be  Marvel  ?  the  child  he  had  left. 
How  altogether  changed,  if  she  indeed  it  were.  And  what 
was  it  in  her  face  that  reminded  him  of — of  whom  ?  He 
could  not  remember. 

She  too  had  seen  him ;  their  eyes  had  met,  and  first  she 
paled  and  then  a  sudden  lovely  crimson  flew  to  her  cheeks, 
and  then,  with  a  faint  glad  cry,  she  sprang  down  the  steps 
and  threw  her  arms  around  his  neck : 

"  It  is  you.  You  have  come  at  last.  Oh,  Fulke  !  Oh, 
dear,  dear  Fulke  !  " 

She  kissed  him  warmly,  without  a  touch  of  bashful- 
ness.  Why  should  she  be  shy  with  him? — was  he  not 
her  brother? 

"And  to  think,"  she  went  on  presently  with  a  little  tear- 
ful laugh,  "that  for  quite  a  minute  I  did  not  know  you. 
Oh  !  that  was  horrid  of  me.  But  come  in — come  at  once. 
Auntie  will  be  so  glad,  so  happy." 

"  A  moment,"  entreated  Wriothesley.  He  held  her 
gently  by  both  arms  and  looked  at  her.  This  girl  who  had 
kissed  him  so  frankly  and  now  stood  smiling  straight  into 
his  eyes  without  a  suspicion  of  embarrassment,  verily,  she 
was  a  revelation. 

"  So  you  are  Marvel,"  he  said  at  length.    His  tone  was  so 


26  MARVEI* 

full  of  unfeigned  amazement  that  she  fairly  bubbled  over 
with  mirth  and  gladness. 

"  I  really  believe  you  didn't  know  me  either,"  she  said 
"  Yes,  haven't  I  grown.  Auntie  says  she  will  put  a  weight 
on  my  head  if  I  go  on  doing  it  any  more ;  and  when  I  am 
just  seventeen  too.  But  don't  let  us  stop  talking  here. 
Come  in  to  Auntie  ;  she  has  been — oh  so  longing  for  you." 

She  slipped  her  hand  into  his  and  dragged  him  eagerly 
up  the  steps  and  into  the  grand  old  hall.  Through  the  dim 
beauty  of  it  she  hurried  him,  each  moment  her  light  step 
growing  swifter  until  at  last  she  began  to  run.  Her  excite- 
ment communicating  itself  to  Wriothesley  he  too  found 
himself  running  presently  up  the  broad  oaken  staircase, 
along  the  waxed  corridors.  All  the  time  he  was  tormented 
by  a  desire  to  know  who  it  was  she  so  much  resembled. 
Where  lay  the  resemblance?  Was  it  in  her  eyes,  her  hair, 
her  mouth  ?  When  they  drew  near  the  end  of  the  corri- 
dor that  led  to  Lady  Mary's  rooms — he,  rather  the  worse  for 
his  rapid  movement ;  she,  fresh  as  a  young  fawn — as  though 
she  could  no  longer  retain  her  joyful  news  she  began 
to  call  aloud  : 

"  I  have  found  him,  auntie  !  It  is  Fulke  indeed.  He  is 
coming.  I  am  bringing  him  to  you." 

Thus  announced,  and  laughing  gaily  at  her  childish 
enthusiasm,  he  was  ushered  into  Lady  Mary's  presence. 

She  was  lying  back  in  a  large  armchair,  and  he  went  to 
her  quickly  and  knelt  down  beside  her.  When  he  saw  her, 
he  was  thankful  that  nothing  had  had  power  to  keep  him 
from  her — once  duty  had  lifted  its  heavy  finger — she  was  so 
frail,  so  ethereal,  so  close  to  the  border-land.  A  lovely 
smile  lay  upon  her  lips,  but  it  was  a  smile  that  awed  him  ; 
frail  indeed  he  knew  was  the  thread  that  kept  her  soul  from 
heaven. 

"  My  darling  ! "  she  whispered.  "  My  own  boy  !  "  She 
pressed  his  head  down  against  her  breast  and  ran  her 
fingers  with  a  lingering  love  through  his  short  locks ;  two 
large  tears  fell  down  her  cheeks. 

"  I  was  so  afraid  I  should  not  wait  to  see  you," she  said; 
and  then  "  it  was  such  a  long,  long  time."  After  a  little 
while,  however,  the  old  cheefulness  that  had  ever  charac- 


MARVEL,  VJ 

terized  her  came  back  with  a  rush,  and  having  kissed  him 
again  she  pushed  him  playfully  from  her. 

"  And  now  stand  up,  Wriothesley,"  she  said,  "  and  let  me 
see  how  my  boy  looks  as  a  man." 

Wriothesley  got  on  his  feet,  and  with  an  affectation  of 
showing  himself  off  to  the  best  advantage  stood  well  back 
from  her,  folded  his  arms  across  his  chest,  and  drew  himself 
up  to  his  full  height,  which  was  nothing  off  six  feet.  Lady 
Mary  regarded  with  delight  the  tall,  bronzed,  handsome 
soldier  before  her,  but  the  tall  soldier  himself  felt  that  he 
was  growing  momentarily  uneasy  beneath  the  steady  glance 
of  two  luminous  eyes  that  did  not  belong  to  Lady  Mary. 
The  tall,  white  child ;  this  strange,  new  Marvel ;  was  staring 
at  him  openly,  innocently. 

"  Auntie,"  said  she  suddenly.     "  How  very  brown  he  is." 

"  My  dear,"  said  Lady  Mary  in  the  exact  tone  one  would 
use  to  a  little  girl  of  twelve,  "  It  is  not  in  good  taste  to 
speak  to  one  person  of  another  when  that  other  happens  to 
be  present." 

"I  know.  I  should  have  remembered,"  said  Marvel 
contritely.  Then  she  corrected  her  breach  of  etiquette  by 
looking  sweetly  at  Wriothesley  and  saying  to  him  direct : 

"  You  are  extremely  brown." 

"Well,"  said  Lady  Mary  pleasantly.  "What  would  you 
have,  you  silly  child  ?  The  sun  of  India  would  not  hide  its 
face  to  please  you  and  me." 

"  You  quite  misunderstand.  I  didn't  want  it  to,"  said 
Marvel  arching  her  brows.  "  I  like  him,  that  is,  I  mean  I 
like  you,  Fulke,  brown,  like  that ;  but  what  I  wonder  at, 
and  what  I  find  fault  with,  is  that  his  neck  below  his  collar 
is  white.  That  spoils  the  effect.  Why  didn't  you  make 
yourself  brown  all  over,  Fulke  ?  " 

This  was  embarrassing.  Both  Lady  Mary  and  Wrio- 
thesley, after  a  second's  pause,  laughed  unrestrainedly,  and 
Marvel  smiled  with  them  in  sympathy  as  it  were,  though  it 
was  very  evident  that  she  didn't  know  why. 

"  I  suppose  it  would  be  too  much  trouble,"  she  said  in  the 
tone  of  one  searching  after  truth. 

"  That  was  the  reason,"  said  Wriothesley.  "  That  and 
one  or  two  other  absurd  reasons  hardly  worth  mentioning." 


28  MARVEL. 

Then  he  turned  to  Lady  Mary.  "  Don't  imagine  I  haven't 
taken  your  lesson  to  heart,"  he  said  gaily.  "  But  I  must 
speak  to  you  of  Marvel,  although  she  is  present.  How 
changed  she  is — how  different  in  every  way  I" 

"  Yes.  She  persuaded  me  to  let  her  put  up  her  hair 
last  month,"  returned  Lady  Mary  with  a  rather  troubled 
air,  her  eyes  on  Marvel.  "  That  has  made  such  a 
difference.  And  such  a  child  as  she  is — it  was  too  soon, 
I  think." 

"  But  seventeen,  auntie  !  And  so  tall  as  I  am.  You 
know  I  told  you  how  Miss  Netterville  laughed  about  it 
to  her  sister  that  Sunday.  I  heard  the  word  '  tail '  dis- 
tinctly. You  wouldn't  like  to  hear  your  hair  called  a 
tail,  Fulke,  would  you?  And  then,  auntie,  you  remember 
what  the  rector  said " 

"Yes,  yes,"  interrupted  Lady  Mary.  "We  all  know 
that  what  you  say,  the  rector  says.  But,  for  my  own  part, 
I  think  it  absurd  for  a  little  girl  like  you  to  ape  the  habits 
of  grown  up  people." 

Wriothesley  listened  to  this  with  amazement  mingled 
with  amusement.  It  was  plain  to  him  that  Lady  Mary 
still  regarded  Marvel  as  quite  a  child,  the  child  she  had 
taken  to  her  heart  so  many  years  ago  and  reared  and  loved, 
and  that  Marvel  herself  had  not  yet  waked  to  the  fact  that 
her  feet  stood  within  that  brook  that  divides  the  child  from 
the  woman.  It  all  arose,  no  doubt,  from  the  isolated  life 
she  had  led,  with  only  the  loving  companionship  of  one 
old  woman  and  one  old  man  to  fill  her  days.  There 
was  some  curiosity  in  the  glance  he  now  turned  upon 
Marvel,  and  as  he  looked  he  told  himself  she  was  inex- 
pressibly lovely,  with  that  calm  serenity  that  sat  on  lip  and 
brow,  and  that  spoke  of  utter  and  entire  innocence  and 
peace. 

He  felt  it  was  all  beautiful,  but  it  did  not  touch  him  as 
it  might  have  done  had  his  heart  been  cleansed  of  the  wild 
passion  that  was  consuming  it.  He  understood  vaguely 
the  purity  that  filled  his  home — the  old  woman  mak  ng 
a  joyful  preparation  for  the  life  beyond  the  grave,  the 
young  girl  standing  on  the  threshold  of  this  life,  ignorant 
of  evil,  with  large  calm  eyes  soft  with  trust  and  dulled 


MARVEL.  29 

by  no  suspicion.  Yet,  after  the  first  joy  at  meeting  again 
with  her  who  had  been  more  than  mother  to  him  had 
subsided,  a  sense  of  impatience  grew  on  Wriothesley,  and 
a  longing  to  get  back  to  her  who  held  his  heart  in  her  cool, 
calculating  hand. 

His  promise  to  return  to  her  kept  him  alive.  He  got 
through  his  day  and  his  evening  in  the  old  home  very 
creditably,  but  all  through  the  gentle  babble  of  those  two 
who  had  so  longed  for  his  return  he  heard  that  other  low 
seductive  voice,  and  felt  the  touch  of  the  soft  clinging 
fingers. 

He  made  an  excuse  next  morning,  ran  up  to  town,  and 
arrived  at  Mrs.  Scarlett's  house  in  Park  Lane  only  to 
find  her  surrounded  by  a  fashionable  crowd.  She  was  in 
fact  "  at  home,"  and  he  only  managed  to  get  a  word  or  two 
from  her,  a  glance,  and  a  faint  pressure  from  her  hand. 
He  returned  to  The  Towers  disappointed,  yet  in  a 
degree  satisfied  in  that  he  had  at  least  seen  her,  and  that 
her  eyes  had  looked  kindly  into  his. 

After  that  visit  he  gave  himself  up  for  a  whole  week 
to  the  home  life.  He  told  himself  he  liked  it,  and  he  grew 
dreamy,  idle,  taking  no  notice  of  how  the  days  went ; 
one  was  so  like  the  other,  indeed,  in  that  still  calm 
household  that  hardly  one  knew  if  it  were  to-day  or 
yesterday.  On  the  seventh  day  Lady  Mary  sent  him  a 
message  to  say  she  would  be  glad  to  see  him  in  her  own 
room  after  luncheon,  a  meal  she  rarely  attended.  When 
he  obeyed  her  summons  he  was  surprised  to  find  her 
alone  ;  it  was  a  most  unusual  thing,  as  Marvel  was  almost 
always  in  attendance  on  her. 

"  I  want  to  speak  to  you,"  she  said  when  he  had  seated 
himself  beside  her.  "  Don't  be  frightened,  it  is  only 
a  word  or  two  I  have  to  say,  and  it  has  nothing  to  do  with 
that  hateful  thing,  business.  It  is  something,  nevertheless, 
that  lies  heavy  on  my  mind — the  fear  that  my  poor  child 
will  have  too  great  cause  to  miss  me  when  I  go." 

"  You  mean  ?  "  questioned  he  gravely. 

"  That  I  would  have  your  promise  to  befriend  her.  I 
know  your  heart,  Fulke — no  kinder  one  could  be — but 
young  men,  my  darling,"  here  she  laid  her  pretty  withered 


30  MAKVEL. 

hand  on  his  as  a  little  apology,  "  are  sometimes  careless, 
and  you  might  not  think  always.  But  if  you  will  give 
me  your  word  to  protect  and  cherish  her  I  shall  know  she 
has  no  cause  for  fear  when  I  am  gone." 

"  Why  should  you  talk  like  this  ?  There  may  yet  be 
many  days  before  you." 

"  Not  many.  It  is  this  troublesome  heart  of  mine 
that  warns  me,"  said  she,  laying  her  hand  upon  it  with 
a  faint  smile.  "  It  is  tired — fairly  worn  out — it  fain  would 
be  at  rest.  It  has  found  the  day  too  long  already — it  is 
weary  of  sounding  out  the  hours.  Very  gladly  would 
it  run  down,  and  indeed  I  feel  the  final  tick  is  at  hand. 
We  grow  impatient  for  the  calm  of  endless  sleep,  my  heart 
and  I.  But  Marvel,  how  will  it  be  with  her  when  that 
hour  comes  ?  There  is  only  you,  Wriothesley.  You  will 
accept  this  trust — you  will  be  true  to  lur?" 

"Any  request  of  yours,  believe  me,  would  be  sacred 
to  me,"  said  Wriothesley  earnestly.  "  But,  even  had  you 
not  spoken,  I  should  have  been  faithful  to  the  little  friend 
of  my  boyhood.  Rest  assured  Marvel  shall  always  be  as  a 
sister  to  me." 

"  She  is  a  sweet  girl  Hers  is  a  very  lovely  nature,"  said 
the  old  lady  dreamily.  "Wrapt  in  mystery  as  is  her  birth 
I  should  nevertheless  esteem  the  man  who  wins  her  heart 
more  than  usually  happy.  That  night,  that  storm — how  it 
all  rushes  back  upon  me  to-day  !  The  charming,  tearful 
face,  the  cry  of  rapture  when  she  saw  us,  and  the  discovery 
of  that  locket.  You  remember  it,  Fulke  ?  She  wears  it 
round  her  neck  always.  I  have  a  foolish,  romantic  fancy 
that  some  day  it  will  be  the  means  of  proving  her 
parentage." 

"  But  have  you  never  feared,"  said  Wriothesley  in  a  low 
tone,  "  that  such  proving  might  be  only  to  her  sorrow  ?  " 

"  Nay,"  said  Lady  Mary  mournfully,  "  I  would  not 
willingly  think  that.  And,  even  so,  I  would  not  take  it  on 
me  to  bid  her  destroy  it.  God  grant  it  bring  no  evil  to 
her,  she  is  too  young,  too  sweet,  for  such  sore  grief.  Yet  I 
confess  at  times  my  heart  is  heavy  for  her." 

"  Do  you  know,"  said  Wriothesley  smiling  brightly,  with 
a  view  to  lifting  these  gloomy  thoughts  from  her  breast. 


MAKVEL.  31 

"you  make  me  feel  a'little  jealous  of  your  Marvel  ?  All  your 
thoughts  seem  given  to  her.  Is  there  not  even  one  for  me  ?" 

"  Thought,  dear  child,  but  no  fear.  There  lies  the 
difference  between  you.  As  a  boy  you  were  honest,  true, 
kindhearted,  why  should  I  fear  for  the  man  ?  And  as  for 
this  world's  goods,  one  need  wish  you  no  more  than  you 
have.  There  is,  therefore,  nothing  to  dread  for  you  save 
perhaps  life's  disappointments,  that  no  man  may  elude : 
the  failing  of  a  friendship,  the  waking  from  a  dream  or 
two,  the  loss  of  earthly  love." 

Wriothesley  dropped  her  hand  abruptly  and  rose  to  his 
feet.  Something  in  her  last  words — a  touch  of  prophecy, 
unmeant  by  her,  yet  felt  by  him — smote  on  his  heart.  A 
sharp  pang  of  agonized  fear  rushed  through  him. 

"  Oh,  not  that ! "  he  cried  to  himself.  "  Wealth,  fame, 
anything  but  that ! " 

He  went  over  to  the  window  and  pressed  his  brow 
against  the  cool  glass.  In  an  instant  he  awoke  from 
the  lethargy  that  had  bound  him  to  the  monotony  of  this 
quiet  country  life  for  seven  long  days.  What  an  intermin- 
able time  it  seemed  since  last  he  had  seen  her!  Seven 
days  only,  yet  what  an  aeon  it  seemed.  Well,  he  would 
not  add  to  it ;  he  would  see  her  again,  now,  at  once, 
to-day.  A  mad  desire  to  start  took  possession  of  him. 
He  felt  stifled  down  there  in  that  pure,  dull,  exquisite 
country.  Where  she  was,  there  only  was  life.  He  turned 
hurriedly  to  Lady  Mary,  who  was  leaning  back  in  her  chair 
looking  pale  and  exhausted,  and  with  her  eyes  fixed 
thoughtfully  on  space. 

"  I  shall  have  to  run  up  to  town  this  evening,"  he  said. 
"The  next  train  leaves  at  six,  1  think." 

"  So  soon,  dear  ?  And  must  you  go  again  ?  It  seems 
to  me  as  though  I  had  only  just  found  you,  and  now  to 
lose  you  again." 

"  But  not  for  six  years  this  time,"  returned  he,  en- 
deavouring to  speak  lightly.  "  For  a  few  hours  only.  If 
I  do  not  return  to-night  I  shall  certainly  be  here  in  the 
morning." 

"The  morning."  She  looked  at  him  wistfully.  "I 
would  you  could  have  stayed  with  me,"  she  said. 


3*  MAJBVEL. 

Her  reproach  was  so  gentle,  her  whole  presence  so  frail, 
that  remorse  seized  him.  By  a  supreme  effort  he  con- 
quered himself  so  far  as  to  tell  her  that  if  she  so  willed  it  he 
would  put  off  his  going  till  the  morrow ;  but  always  sweetly 
unselfish,  she  now  at  the  last  denied  herself.  She  would 
not,  she  said,  have  him  disarrange  his  plans  for  the  vagaries 
of  an  old  woman ;  and,  easily  persuaded,  he  left  her. 


CHAPTER   VI. 
*  The  worst  thing  an  old  man  can  be  is  a  lover." 

"  What  see  you  there 

That  hath  so  cowarded  and  chased  your  blood 
Out  of  appearance  ?  " 

IT  was  about  half-past  ten  when  he  drove  up  to  the  door. 
He  sprang  from  the  hansom  and  knocked  impatiently  at 
the  door. 

"  Mrs.  Scarlett  at  home  ?  "  It  was  past  the  bounds  of 
all  probability  that  she  should  be,  in  the  height  of  the 
season ;  yet  in  a  vague  unreasoning  way  he  knew  he  should 
find  her.  He  did  not  feel  even  passing  surprise  at  the 
servant's  answer  : 

"  Yes,  my  lord."  The  man  spoke  with  a  certain  hesita- 
tion, and  as  if  there  was  more  to  add ;  but  Wriothesley 
took  no  notice  of  this. 

"  Upstairs  ?" — he  asked — "  in  the  morning  room?" 

"  Yes,  my  lord ;  but " 

Wriothesley  motioned  him  to  one  side. 

"  You  needn't  announce  me,"  he  said,  and  before  the 
man  could  remonstrate  or  explain  he  was  halfway  up  the 
staircase.  He  went  lightly,  his  heart,  winged,  seemed  to 
have  flown  into  his  feet ;  he  had  his  hand  upon  the  door 
of  the  pretty  room  that  Mrs.  Scarlett  so  much  affected 
before  another  could  have  mounted  more  than  the  first  few 
steps  of  the  stairs  :  and  now  he  opened  it,  and  entered. 

Mrs.    Scarlett  was  half  sitting,  half  reclining,  upon  a 


MAKVEL.  33 

crimson  lounge,  and  beside  her,  very  close  to  her,  on  a  low 
chair,  sat  the  Duke  of  Dawtry. 

A  sudden  chill  fell  on  Wriothesley.  There  was  really  no 
reason  for  it.  Why  should  not  the  duke  make  an  evening 
call  on  Mrs.  Scarlett ;  why  should  she  not  receive  him  ? 

It  was  a  simple,  a  very  ordinary  matter,  and  yet !  He 

advanced  into  the  room  with  a  more  careful  step  than  that 
with  which  he  had  run  upstairs,  and  his  face,  in  spite  of 
himself,  looked  grave. 

Mrs.  Scarlett  made  a  little  clever  movement  that  brought 
her  into  a  more  studied  position  than  the  one  she  had  been 
using,  and  a  swift  change  swept  across  her  face.  Was  it 
surprise,  or  annoyance?  Wriothesley  could  not  decide 
which,  it  came  and  went  so  suddenly. 

"  You,"  she  said  sweetly,  holding  out  to  him  a  jewelled 
hand. 

The  two  men  saluted  each  other  with  cold  courtesy.  It 
was  impossible  not  to  see  the  duke's  evident  irritation  at 
the  interruption,  even  through  the  veneer  of  his  breeding, 
which  indeed  was  excellent,  and  Wriothesley  only  barely 
suppressed  a  frown.  It  was  altogether  a  bad  moment,  but 
it  passed,  and  found  them  conversing  as  amicably  as  though 
no  unfriendly  feelings  filled  their  breasts. 

After  a  rather  short  five  minutes,  the  duke  rose  and 
made  his  adieux,  lingering  a  little  over  Mrs.  Scarlett's  hand 
as  he  did  so.  Wriothesley  could  not  avoid  hearing  that  a 
few  words  passed  between  them.  Then  the  door  closed 
on  the  elder  man,  and  the  coast  so  far  was  clear.  A 
rather  prolonged  silence  followed  his  exit — a  silence  that 
Wriothesley  made  no  effort  to  break.  A  sense  of  un- 
reality was  oppressing  him,  and  his  heart  seemed  on  fire. 
Orthodox  as  he  persuaded  himself  a  few  moments  ago  to 
consider  his  presence  in  this  room,  he  was  now  tormented 
by  the  question,  Why  had  that  old  man  been  there,  and 
alone  with  her  ?  When  driving  to  her  a  while  since  through 
the  lighted  streets  he  had  felt  positively  certain  in  some 
vague,  unreasoning  way  that  he  should  find  her  at  home; 
yet  now  there  seemed  to  him  something  sinister  in  the  fact 
that  she  was  so.  That  she,  who  so  courted  society  and  was 
so  courted  by  it,  should  deliberately  elect  to  set  aside  all 

3 


34  MAKVEL. 

invitations  for  this  evening  was  strange  indeed.  And  that 

old  time-worn  roue !  He  flushed  crimson  and  turned 

abruptly  towards  her  to  find  her  gaze — a  rather  penetrating 
one — fixed  on  him. 

As  their  eyes  met  her  whole  expression  altered,  and  that 
pretty,  sweet,  swift  smile  of  hers  parted  her  lips. 

"  That  you  should  have  come  here  like  this  ! "  she  said. 
"Without  a  word — a  line  !  What  a  boy  you  are.  Come 
nearer  " — holding  out  to  him  a  slim  white  hand — "  and  tell 
me  how  you  knew  I  should  be  at  home  to-night." 

"  I  knew  nothing.  I  came  here  on  the  merest  chance 
of  finding  you." 

"  Well,  you  were  gratified." 

"  Hardly." 

"  What !  You  wanted  more  than  that  ?  Was  not  I 
alone  then  sufficient  for  you  ?  " 

"  You  alone — yes,"  he  answered  slowly. 

She  laughed,  and  leant  back  amongst  her  cushions  ;  the 
soft  light  from  one  of  the  rose-shaded  lamps  fell  on  her 
face. 

"  Is  that  it  ?  "  she  said.  "  So  you  would  isolate  me.  A 
little  selfish,  isn't  it  ?  And  as  for  that  poor  old  duke,  you 
flatter  him  indeed  when  you  condescend  to  be  jealous  of 
him.  He  is  very  prosy,  I  grant  you ;  but  he  so  likes  a 
gossip  with  a  pretty  woman  who  is  good  enough  not  to 
show  she  is  bored,  that  when  he  called,  by  chance  like  your- 
self, to-night,  I  had  not  the  heart  to  deny  myself  to  him  ; 
though  my  Indian  friends  will  lose  a  letter  or  two  by  it. 
You  see  I  am  not  so  selfish  as  you  are." 

She  said  all  this  very  artlessly,  and  smiled  again.  She 
had  slipped  her  hand  into  his  whilst  speaking,  and  now,  as 
if  unconsciously,  she  tightened  her  fingers  round  his,  softly, 
bewitchingly.  He  turned  more  towards  her,  the  angry 
flash  was  dying  from  his  eyes,  he  was  relenting,  he 
was  almost  won ;  another  effort  and  he  would  be  hers 
again. 

"  A  word  ! "  said  she  in  a  gay  little  whisper,  leaning 
towards  him.  "  You  won't  betray  me  ?  Well,  I  am  not  so 
unselfish  perhaps  as  I  would  show  myself.  That  old  man 
is  useful  to  me  in  many  small  ways ;  it  may  be  that  that 


MAEVEL,  35 

fact  enables  me  to  endure  his  prosings  with  the  fortitude 
I  do." 

"  It  is  nothing  more  than  that  ? "  asked  Wriothesley. 
"  You  swear  to  me  it  is  only  that  ?  " 

"  By  what  shall  I  swear  ?  By  my  troth,  or  my  halidorn, 
whatever  that  may  be  ?  Dear  Wriothesley,  I  am  afraid  the 
little  ingenue  has  been  teaching  you  naughty  ways." 

He  knelt  down  beside  her  and  laid  her  palm  against  his 
lips. 

"  My  beloved  ! "  he  said,  "  tell  me  again  that  the  Duke 
of  Dawtry  is  nothing  to  you." 

"  Pouf !  less  than  nothing.  A  summer  wind  could 
scatter  my  regard  for  him — so,"  making  a  dainty  pre- 
tence of  blowing  something  away  from  the  tips  of  her 
fingers.  "Fossils,  I  would  have  you  know,  however 
priceless,  are  not  much  in  my  line.  I  think " — with  a 
reproachful  glance  at  him — "  you  might  have  known  that. 
They  do  not  commend  themselves  to  me;  they  fail  to 
enchain  my  fancy." 

"  Your  fancy !  That  is  a  thing  light  as  air.  Oh  !  that 
/might  enchain  it." 

"  Why,  so  you  do,"  said  she.  Her  voice  fell  to  a  soft 
undertone.  "  Do  you  think  I  would  let  another  kneel 
where  you  are  kneeling  now  ?  Is  it  a  small  privilege,  think 

you,  to  be  allowed  to ."  She  bent  her  head,  and 

Wriothesley's  lips  met  hers  in  a  passionate  embrace.  After 
a  long  pause : 

"  That  little  girl  has  not  won  you  from  me  then,"  she 
went  on  in  a  low  wooing  whisper.  "  You  are  still  mine  ?  " 

"  Now  as  ever." 

"  It  is  a  love  worth  having,"  she  said  as  if  to  herself. 
Her  tone  was  subdued  as  of  one  musing.  "  I  do  believe 
you,"  she  went  on  presently;  "and  yet,  a  young  girl, 
Wriothesley  :  there  is  a  great  charm  in  youth,  and  that 
little  thing  is,  I  hear,  lovely." 

"  Who  told  you  that  ?  " 

"  Your  cousin — Mrs.  Verulam.  Her  feeling  towards  me 
can  hardly  be  called  love,  and  she  thought  to  amuse  her- 
self by  telling  me  that  yesterday.  She  is  not  after  all  as 
clever  as  she  looks.  She  told  me  Miss — Craven  is  it  you 

3—3 


36  MAEVEL. 

call  her  ? — was  sufficiently  out  of  the  common  to  bring  all 
London  to  her  feet." 

"  I  don't  know,  I'm  sure.  To  me  she  seemed  a  pretty 
child,  no  more,  no  less.  How  you  dwell  upon  her  !  "  He 
spoke  impatiently.  "  She  is  a  mere  baby — beautiful  pos- 
sibly, h"t  uninteresting.  Dismiss  her  from  your  mind." 

"  That  I  cannot.  Regard  it  as  absurd  if  you  will,  but 
I  have  thought  of  nothing  but  her  all  day." 

"  How  could  you  think  all  day  of  one  so  entirely  a 
stranger  to  you  ? 

"  She  will  not  be  always  that.  Some  day  I  shall  meet  the 
child  whom  you  call  Marvel — and  don't  ask  how  because 
I  don't  know  myself — but  I  feel  that  she  will  bear  a  direct 
influence  upon  my  life.  Will  she  make  it,  or  mar  it  ?  that 
is  what  lies  hidden  from  me."  She  sighed  quickly. 

"  Willingly,  I  am  sure  she  would  injure  no  one,"  said 
Wriothesley  thoughtfully. 

She  cast  a  swift  sidelong  glance  at  him  from  under  her 
long  lashes. 

"  Already  she  has  found  grace  in  your  sight,"  she  said. 
"  The  spell  begins  to  work,  you  see.  I  tell  you  that  girl 
will  have  much  to  do  with  your  life  and  mine." 

"Naturally,"  said  Wriothesley  gravely.  "A  child  like 
that,  cast  so  strangely  into  our  family,  must  always  be 
regarded  by  me  as  a  sacred  charge.  So  much  I  have 
promised  Lady  Mary,  although,  indeed,  as  I  told  her,  such 
a  promise  was  unnecessary.  And  as — "  regarding  her 
earnestly — "  I  hope  your  life  will  be  closely  interwoven 
with  mine — it  is  probable  that,  as  you  say,  she " 

Mrs.  Scarlett  put  all  that  aside  with  a  movement  of  her 
fan. 

"You  are  going  too  wide  of  the  mark,"  she  said.  "I 
am  talking  of  that  girl's  influence  over  my  destiny.  Some 
warning  tells  me  it  will  not  be  a  beneficent  one." 

"  Have  you  been  consulting  the  spirits  again  ?  How 
many  seances  have  you  been  attending  this  week  ? " 
questioned  Wriothesley  laughing.  "  You  seem  to  have  my 
aunt's  little  friend  on  the  brain.  Come,  tell  me  why  you 
think  so  much  of  her." 

A  fond  hope  that  she  was  growing  jealous  of  Marvel  was 


MABVEL.  57 

making  his  heart  glad;  but  this  illusion  Mrs.  Scarlett 
ruthlessly  dispelled. 

"  Last  night  I  dreamt  of  her,"  she  said  slowly.  "  A 
vision  rather  than  a  dream  it  was.  There  was  no  leading 
ap  to  it,  no  beginning,  no  end.  All  suddenly,  as  it  were, 
I  found  myself  in  the  midst  of  a  terrible  darkness,  a  very 
blackness  of  night.  There  were  mutterings  and  hoarse 
cryings  all  around,  and  sounds  of  trouble  and  woe.  And 
then,  even  as  I  gazed  affrighted  into  this  impenetrable 
shade,  lo  !  it  parted,  as  though  two  sable  curtains  had 
been  pulled  aside,  and  there  appeared  a  vague  tremulous 
glimmer  of  light,  opaque,  silvery,  that  grew  and  grew,  until 
almost  it  was  too  bright  to  look  upon.  It  formed  itself 
into  a  complete  oval,  a  perfect  frame,  and  in  it  stood  a 
radiant  figure,  a  tall  slender  creature,  half  child,  half  girl, 
with  soft  floating  locks  and  gleaming  innocent  eyes,  and  a 
face  that  was  purity  embodied.  Long  I  thought  I  gazed 
on  it.  There  it  stood  immovable,  smiling  tranquilly, 
though  surrounded  by  the  awful  darkness  that  held  me  ; 
standing  out  from  the  hideous  gloom  with  an  insolence  of 
youth  and  innocence  that  held  me  even  whilst  I  hated  it ! 
The  cries  and  the  mutterings  did  not  touch  her.  The 
gloom  awoke  in  her  no  fear.  The  calm  serenity  never  left 
the  perfect  face.  I  see  it  now,"  said  she  in  a  low  condensed 
tone,  rising  slowly  to  her  feet  and  gazing  straight  before 
her.  "The  face  beautiful,  angelic,  and  yet  so  like — like 

"  She  broke  off  shuddering,  a  sharp  shiver  ran  through 

her  frame ;  her  face  grew  ghastly.  "  Great  Heaven  !  what 
a  thought ! "  she  gasped,  and  tottered  and  would  have 
fallen  but  that  Wriothesley  caught  her. 

"  Like  whom  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  One  dead.     Dead  and  forgotten,"  she  said  faintly. 

He  soothed  her  tenderly,  and  after  a  little  while  she 
shook  off  the  feverish -horror  that  had  seized  her,  and  even 
laughed  aloud  at  the  absurd  scene  she  had  made  him. 

"  But  I  hate  to  dream,"  she  said,  "  it  spoils  a  good 
night,  and  my  nerves,  though  they  tell  me  I  am  made  of 
steel,  are  more  troublesome  than  I  care  to  say.  Only  to 
you,"  with  a  gentle  glance,  "  I  betray  myself." 

"  All  that  you  say  only  makes  me  love  you  the  more," 


38  MARVEL. 

said  Wriothesley.  "And  you,  do  you  too  love  me?"  It 
was  not  an  assertion,  it  was  an  anxious  question. 

"  Have  you  no  faith  ?  " 

"  A  great  deal,  but  yet  I  would  have  you  say  it." 

"  Yet  what  are  words  ?  " 

"  True,"  cried  he  springing  to  his  feet.  "  Give  me  then 
pi  oof." 

She  knew  what  this  would  lead  to  and  tried  to  parry  it. 

"  Have  I  not  ?  "  she  said. 

"  Sweet  proof  indeed  ;  but  I  would  have  more — all. 
Leonie,  tell  me  you  will  marry  me." 

"  If  I  did  should  I  be  wise  for  either  you  or  me  ? 
Does  marriage  mean  happiness  or  misery?  That  is  a 
question  that  still  puzzles  the  world,  after  centuries  of 
honest  trial." 

"  It  does  not  puzzle  me.  If  you  love  me,  say  you  will 
be  my  wife." 

"  Are  we  not  very  well  as  we  are  ?  Why  will  you  tempt 
Fate  further?  As  for  me,"  she  threw  a  charming  serious- 
ness into  her  tone,  "  I  dread  to  lose  my  lover." 

"  It  would  be  rather  to  gain  one  for  ever." 

"  Oh,  no ! "  she  shook  her  head.  "  A  lover  is  one 
thing,  a  husband  quite  another.  Once  I  was  yours,  half 
my  value  would  be  gone  in  your  sight." 

"  You  trifle  with  me,"  he  said  impatiently.  His  brow 
darkened,  and  she  saw  at  once  (for  she  was  quick  to  see) 
that  his  mood  was  not  one  that  would  admit  of  further 
dallying.  "  I  cannot  say  to  you,  take  time  to  think  this 
over,  for  you  have  had  plenty  of  time  in  which  to  weigh 
me  and  find  me  wanting  or  otherwise,  as  the  case  may  be. 
Give  me,  then,  my  answer  now." 

She  rose  slowly  to  her  feet  and  stood  back  from  him  ;  a 
curious  expression  came  into  her  eyes. 

"  You  command,"  she  said  coldly. 

"I  entreat,  I  implore,"  returned  he  vehemently. 
"Leonie,  answer  me." 

"  I  might  indeed  do  that,"  said  she  with  her  flickering 
smile.  "  But  would  that  answer  please  you  ?  No,  in  spite 
of  all  you  have  said,  I  demand  yet  a  little  more  time." 

"  At  least,  put  a  limit  to  my  probation  ?  " 


MARVEL.  39 

She  paused  and  looked  down.  Her  fertile  mind  ran 
through  the  chances  for  and  against  the  ambitious  design 
on  which  she  had  set  her  heart,  and  decided,  hurriedly, 
that  she  might  safely  promise  to  give  Wriothesley  his 
answer  in  a  week.  She  could  so  arrange  that  the  duke 
should  within  that  time  declare  himself  one  way  or  the 
other ;  as  her  suitor  openly  accepted,  or  as  the  mere  admirer 
of  a  fashionable  beauty.  In  a  week,  then,  she  should  be 
either  an  embryo  duchess,  or  (a  very  bearable  alternative) 
the  affianced  of  an  earl.  In  the  brief  minute  in  which  she 
held  silence,  she  carefully  balanced  the  strawberry  leaves 
together  with  the  miserable  old  life  attached  to  them,  with 
the  fresh,  ardent,  honest  love  standing  there  before  her, 
and  mercilessly  decided  in  favour  of  the  former. 

"  Come  to  me  this  day  week,"  she  said,  "  then  I  shall 
know." 

"  It  seems  a  long  time  to  make  up  your  mind  about  me," 
said  he  wistfully,  "still — as  you  will." 

"  And  now,  good-night,  you  have  startled  me  more 
than  you  know.  I  want  to  be  alone,  to  think  it  all  over." 
She  held  out  to  him  her  hand. 

"I  know  what  your  answer  will  be,"  he  whispered 
with  all  a  lover's  fond  trust.  The  certainty  in  his  tone 
did  not  anger  her — it  only  hurt  her  for  the  moment  like 
the  thrust  of  a  sharp  knife.  "Why,  then,  will  you  con- 
demn me  to  this  seven  days'  misery  ?  why  not  make  me 
happy  now  ?  " 

"You  assume  a  great  deal,"  she  said  playfully,  "yet  you 
must  remember  I  have  promised  nothing." 

"  Yet  I  trust — I  believe  in  you,"  replied  he  with  passion- 
ate earnestness ;  "  those  last  words  I  leave  with  you. 
Good-night,  my  love;  good-night." 

She  sat  there  long  after  he  was  gone,  deliberately  making 
out  a  programme  for  the  coming  week — that  should  bring 
the  duke  finally  to  her  feet.  At  length  the  weary  drooping 
of  her  eyelids  warned  her  that  the  night  was  far  advanced, 
and  that  sleep  was  taking  her  into  his  welcome  custody. 
She  rose  and  stretched  her  long  white  arms,  and  a  sigh  of 
weariness  escaped  her.  Yes,  the  whole  evening  had  been  a 
failure ;  it  had  been  singularly  fatiguing;  she  would  go  to  bed. 


40  MAKVEL. 

There  was  one  thing,  however,  she  should  do  first.  She 
rang  the  bell  sharply,  and  dismissed  from  her  service  the 
footman  who  had  admitted  Wriothesley. 


CHAPTER  VII. 
"  Virtue  alone  has  majesty  in  death." 

"  That  eating  canker,  grief,  with  wasteful  spite 
Preys  on  the  rosy  bloom  of  youth  and  beauty." 

THE  man  who  woke  Wriothesley  at  his  club  next  morning 
brought  him  a  telegram.  He  opened  it  idly,  in  a  dilatory 
fashion,  feeling  no  apprehension  about  its  contents,  but 
as  he  read  it  the  colour  forsook  his  face.  It  was  from 
the  housekeeper  at  The  Towers,  and  it  told  him  that 
Lady  Mary  was  dead.  She  had  died  quite  suddenly  the 
night  before.  There  was  nothing  more  in  it,  the  message 
was  as  brief  as  it  was  terrible. 

It  was  such  a  shock  to  Wriothesley  that  at  first  he  felt 
stunned.  Then  he  sprang  out  of  bed  and  began  with 
eager  haste  to  dress  himself.  All  through  the  time  this 
took  him,  he  was  tormented  by  a  sense  of  poignant  regret 
that  mingled  with  his  grief  and  was  even  stronger  than  it. 
Why  had  he  not  stayed  with  her  last  night — her  last 
night  indeed  ?  He  remembered  each  word  she  had  said, 
he  saw  again  her  kind  old  eyes  as  they  rested  lovingly  upon 
him,  he  heard  the  gentle  tone  in  which  she  expressed  her 
sorrow  that  he  should  leave  her  then,  and  he  recalled  how 
sweetly  she  had  refused  to  accept  his  offer  to  remain. 

A  little  spark  of  comfort  lay  in  the  remembrance  that 
he  had  offered,  and  that  he  would  have  stayed  had  she 
pressed  the  point ;  but  then  he  knew  he  should  not  have 
lAft  the  decision  with  her. 

The  next  train  was  due  in  half-an-hour.  He  gave  no 
thought  to  breakfast,  but  rushed  off  to  the  station,  caught 
the  train  just  as  it  was  slowly  steaming  out  of  it,  and  in 
about  three  hours  found  himself  at  The  Towers.  The  hall 


MAKVEL.  41 

door  was  wide  open,  and  he  entered  the  house  with  a 
hesitating  step.  There  was  no  sound  of  a  footfall  any- 
where, no  touch  of  life.  A  melancholy  silence  lay  on 
everything.  "  Death,  the  all  eloquent,"  alone  spoke. 

As  he  paused,  half  doubting  where  to  go  or  what  to  do, 
a  slender  figure  emerged  from  the  library  on  his  right  and 
came  towards  him  through  the  dim  religious  light  of  the 
grand  old  hall,  with  dejected  steps.  It  was  Marvel — but 
what  a  changed  Marvel !  The  happy  childish  smile  was 
gone,  the  mobile  mouth  was  given  up  to  melancholy. 
Grief  lay  beneath  the  lids  that  were  downcast,  as  if  to  hide 
the  misery  of  the  all-sorrowing  eyes.  She  came  to  him 
like  a  little  wounded  bird,  and  crept  into  his  arms,  and  laid 
her  cheek  against  his. 

"  When  was  it  ?  "  he  asked  presently,  with  a  heavy  heart. 

"  Last  night ;  quite  early  ;  we  think  she  must  have — left 
us — in  her  sleep."  She  spoke  with  deep  dejection  :  there 
was  indeed  a  despair  in  the  young  voice  too  great  for  tears 
to  give  relief.  "  You  will  like  to  see  her,"  she  said. 

Wriothesley  bowed  his  head,  and  once  again  they 
ascended  the  staircase  together.  Now,  with  lagging  steps 
and  saddened  mien  she  went,  holding  his  hand  tightly,  as 
though  she  feared  to  lose  him  too,  and  with  a  thrill  of 
emotion  he  recalled  that  other  day  when  like  a  fawn  she 
had  sprung  from  step  to  step,  and,  laughing  gaily,  had 
conducted  him  to  her  who  never  more  would  welcome 
them  in  this  life. 

In  the  chamber  of  death  all  was  exquisitely  sweet  and 
fresh.  Great  bunches  of  delicately-perfumed  flowers  lay 
on  all  the  tables,  and  roses  freshly  cut  were  strewn  upon 
the  bed,  not  profusely,  but  one  here  and  there.  In  her 
life  she  had  loved  her  roses  well. 

Wriothesley  knelt  by  the  bed  and  buried  his  face  in  his 
hands,  but  Marvel  went  up  to  the  still  figure  and  bending 
over  it  gazed  long  and  lovingly  upon  the  peaceful  features, 
that  looked  as  though  they  were  but  sunk  in  a  calm  slumber. 
Thus  had  she  gone  from  them,  without  a  sigh  or  a 
struggle : 

"A  death-like  sleep, 
A  gentle  wafting  to  immortal  life ; " 


42  MAEVEL. 

such  had  been  her  ending ;  a  fit  one  truly  for  a  lovely  life 
like  hers. 

"  Sure,  'tis  a  serious  thing  to  die,  my  soul ! "  but  looking 
on  Lady  Mary's  face,  half  the  terrors  of  it  seemed  to  fade. 
It  was  very  happy,  and  younger — far  younger — than  Marvel 
could  ever  remember  it.  "  All  people,"  says  Jeremy  Collier, 
"  are  young  in  the  other  world,"  and  truly  it  seemed  as  if 
Lady  Mary  had  already  entered  into  her  heritage  of  eternal 
youth. 

Marvel  stood  watching  her  with  thoughtful  eyes.  There 
was  no  dismay,  no  fear  in  them,  rather  a  great  comfort.  If 
she  could  only  be  beside  her  thus  always,  if  she  could  always 
have  her  body  near,  even  though  the  soul  were  absent,  it 
would  not  be  so  hard  to  bear — the  cruel  sense  of  loneliness 
would  be  less  acute.  She  felt  soothed  by  the  divine 
majesty  of  death,  but  when  Wriothesley  arose  and  took  her 
hand  and  led  her  from  the  room,  the  expression  of  comfort 
died  from  her  face,  giving  place  once  more  to  one  of 
unassuageable  grief. 

The  mournful  day  passed  slowly ;  a  brilliant  day,  warm 
with  sunshine  and  glad  with  the  songs  of  many  birds ;  a 
very  living  fay,  that  spoke  to  them  of  that  glorious  eternal 
life  beyond  the  grave,  to  which  our  brief  existence  here  is 
but  as  an  hour. 

Although  it  was  seven  o'clock,  the  June  sun  was  still 
hot  in  the  heavens  as  Wriothesley  with  a  grave  face 
traversed  the  gardens.  Some  one  had  told  him  Marvel 
had  gone  out  alone  into  that  smaller  rose  garden  that  had 
been  her  auntie's  special  care.  Poor  lonely  child !  A 
great  compassion  for  her  led  him  to  follow  her  footsteps, 
and  presently  he  found  her,  standing  forlorn,  miserable,  in 
the  centre  of  the  green  sward  where  stood  a  fountain  whose 
waters  played  upon  and  helped  to  clothe  a  laughing  naiad. 
She  was  dressed  in  a  simple  little  white  frock  (such  as  Lady 
Mary  had  loved  to  clothe  her  in)  that  reached  her  throat, 
but  left  her  arms  bare  to  the  shoulder.  With  a  sad  desire 
to  put  on  mourning  of  some  sort,  she  had  found  a  wide 
black  sash  and  had  wound  it  round  her  slim  young  waist. 

She  was  standing,  mute  and  miserable,  with  her  arms 
hanging  loosely  before  her,  the  hands  clasped,  as  Wriothes- 


MARVEL.  43 

ley  came  up.  They  were  long  arms,  and  slender  as  a 
child's,  but  he  could  not  help  noticing  how  exquisitely  they 
were  moulded  and  how  dazzlingly  white  their  colour.  He 
was  anxious  to  say  something  that  should  rouse  her  from 
the  stupor  of  grief  into  which  she  seemed  sunk,  but  his 
imagination  played  him  false  just  then  and  no  satisfactory 
commonplace  remark  occurred  to  him.  At  last  a  happy 
thought  struck  him  :  he  would  appeal  to  her  vanity — all 
women  were  vain. 

"  Marvel ! "  he  said  gently.  At  the  sound  of  his  voice 
she  started  perceptibly :  she  had  been  so  lost  in  her  medi- 
tations as  to  have  been  deaf  to  his  approach,  but  she  now 
looked  at  him.  "  My  dear  child  !"  he  went  on;  "don't 
you  think  your  arms  will  get  sunburnt  if  you  stand  there 
with  them  thus  uncovered." 

This  brilliant  essay  did  not  meet  with  the  success  it 
deserved ;  she  glanced  first  at  him  with  indignant  reproach, 
then  down  at  the  arms  in  question,  and  then  again  at  him, 
this  time  piteously. 

"  And  if  they  do,"  she  said,  "  what  does  it  matter  ? 
There  is  no  one  now  to  see  them — no  one  ! "  She  threw 
her  hands  abroad  with  a  little  desolate  air  that  went  to  his 
heart. 

"Don't  say  that,"  he  entreated  earnestly;  "am  /  no 
one?" 

"  Oh  yes,"  she  said,  her  eyes  filling  with  tears,  "  no  one 
at  all." 

"  At  least  I  am  your  friend,"  he  persisted,  though  rather 
taken  aback,  "  and  surely  friendship  should  count  with  you. 
And,"  gravely,  "  do  you  think  she  would  like  you  to  be 
careless,  just  because  she  was  not  here  to  see  ?  " 

In  a  vague  way  it  occurred  to  him  that  he  too  was  treating 
her  as  a  child,  and  the  thought  puzzled  him.  Yet  how 
else  was  he  to  treat  her.  Those  large  solemn  eyes  were  still 
within  the  realms  of  childhood ;  the  whole  face,  that  was 
lovely  as  a  dream,  held  not  one  secret.  She  seemed  im- 
pressed by  his  words,  and  glad  that  he  had  touched  her  in 
some  way  for  her  good,  he  was  about  to  continue  in  the 
same  strain  when  she  interrupted  him. 

"  Ah  !  but  that  is  it,"  she  said,  "  that  is  what  hurts   me. 


44  MARVEL." 

I  do  not  know  now  whether  she  cares  at  all.  She  is  gone 
from  me." 

"  But  is  she  so  altogether  gone  from  us,"  argued  he  gently. 
"  Would  it  not  be  a  happier  thing,  Marvel,  for  you  and  me 
to  try  to  think  of  her  as  though  she  had  not  entirely  left 
us,  but  that  her  presence  still  dwelt  in  the  old  house  she 
loved  so  well." 

She  was  looking  at  him  very  seriously  as  he  finished. 
He  could  see  the  idea  soothed  and  pleased  her. 

"And  again,"  he  went  on,  "you  must  not  think  that 
with  her  went  all  the  love  in  your  life.  There  is  the  rector, 
a  real  friend,  you  have  not  forgotten  him,  have  you  ?  And, 
besides,  there  is  a  still  older  friend  who  cares  very  much  for 
you,  and  who  will  always  grieve  with  your  unhappiness  and 
sympathize  with  your  joys." 

Her  eyes  searched  his  anxiously. 

"  Is  it  you  ?  "  she  asked  "  Oh  !  if  you  could  only  love 
me.  If  you  were  given  to  me  to  fill  her  place.  But  no," 
despondently,  "  it  could  never  be  the  same."  She  broke 
down  and  covered  her  face  with  her  hands. 

Wriothesley  drew  her  gently  towards  him,  and  with  a  sob 
she  laid  her  head  against  him,  and  with  all  the  abandon- 
ment of  a  child  threw  one  arm  over  his  shoulder.  She  was 
crying  softly  but  bitterly,  and  Wriothesley  scarcely  knew 
what  to  say  to  comfort  her.  He  smoothed  back  her  hair, 
which  was  unbound  and  hung  in  loose  rippling  masses  to  her 
waist,  and  waited  in  patience  until  she  should  have  recovered 
herself. 

"  You,  too,  will  go  !  "  she  said  at  last  "  Every  one  goes. 
I  shall  always  be  alone." 

"  I  am  not  going,"  declared  he  cheerfully.  "  I  shall  send 
in  my  papers  and  resign  my  commission  at  once.  I  am 
tired  of  barrack  life,  and  indeed,  such  a  passion  for  home 
has  grown  upon  me  that  I  shall  probably  be  always  some- 
where that  will  enable  me  to  get  to  you  just  whenever  you 
choose.  Now,  that  doesn't  sound  like  being  alone,  does  it  ? 
And,  do  you  know,  I  don't  like  being  alone  either,  so  I 
want  you  to  come  in  and  have  dinner  with  me,  and  how 
can  you  do  that  if  you  keep  on  crying  so.  And  why  is  youi 
pretty  hair  all  loose  like  this  ?  " 


MAKVEL.  45 

"  She  liked  it  so,"  mournfully.  "  Oh,  how  sorry  I  am 
now  that  I  ever  teased  her  about  letting  me  twist  it  round 
my  head.  What  did  it  matter  if  all  the  horrid  girls  in  the 
world  called  it  a  tail,  if  it  pleased  her.  How  selfish," 
vehemently,  "  how  unkind  of  me  !" 

"  Nonsense !  It  was  the  most  natural  thing  in  the  world. 
And  as  for  your  auntie,  I  firmly  believe  she  agreed  with 
you  about  it  in  the  end.  What  is  the  good  of  having  a 
head  so  charmingly  classic  as  yours  if  you  don't  show  it  ? 
I  am  sure  if  she  could  see  you  now  she  would  not  admire 
your  hair  like  that,  and  certainly  I  do  not ;  and  as  I  am 
your  guardian  now,  I  hope  you  will  try  to  be  as  good  to  me 
as  you  were  to  her." 

"  My  guardian  !  You  ?  Are  you — "  repeating  herself 
in  her  astonishment — "my  guardian?  Are  you,  really?" 
She  seemed  lost  in  wonder.  And  then,  "  Was  it  her 
wish  ?  " 

"  Almost  her  last." 

"  Oh  !  I  am  glad  of  that !  Thankful  and  glad.  How 
she  thought  of  everything  that  would  please  me!"  with  a 
profound  sigh.  "  Then  now  you  can't  go  away  from  me," 
she  cried,  and  laid  her  other  arm  round  his  neck  and  kissed 
his  cheek.  "  You  will  never  leave  me.  I  shall  always  be 
with  you  as  I  was  with  her. " 

She  seemed  so  overjoyed  at  this  thought  that  he  had  not 
the  heart  just  then  to  dispel  a  dream  that  was  evidently  so 
full  of  sweetness  to  her,  but  he  persuaded  her  to  come  in 
to  dinner  with  him,  and  made  her  sit  next  to  him,  and 
coaxed  her  to  eat  one  or  two  things,  bidding  the  men  place 
the  entrees  on  the  corner  of  the  table  near  him,  until  he 
should  have  helped  her  with  his  own  hands. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

"  Then  said  this  lady  with  her  maiden  mouth, 
Shame-faced,  and  something  paler  in  the  cheek." 

THE  last  sad  formalities  had  come  to  an  end.     The  body 
was  consigned  to  the  family  vault.      Once  again  all  the 


46  MAEVEL. 

windows  at  The  Towers  were  flung  wide  open,  and  the 
merry,  dancing  summer  sunshine  streamed  into,  and  lit  up 
the  rooms  that  never  again  would  know  the  gentle  presence 
of  Lady  Mary  Craven. 

Marvel  went  dreamily  about  all  day,  wandering  from 
place  to  place,  visiting  the  favourite  haunts  and  living  over 
again  the  happy  tranquil  hours  she  had  spent  with  her  first 
and  best  friend.  Once  or  twice  she  walked  sadly  down  to  the 
rectory,  and  sat  there  hand  in  hand  with  the  rector,  who 
truly  mourned  with  her  for  one  whose  loss  seemed  to  him 
irreparable.  Fulke,  who  should  have  been  a  companion  to 
her — now  that  the  first  severe  strain  was  lifted,  and  Lady 
Mary's  death  had  grown  to  be  a  thing  realized — was  so 
filled  with  a  nervous  longing  for  the  moment  that  should 
permit  him  again  to  seek  the  presence  of  Mrs.  Scarlett  and 
hear  from  her  lips  his  fate,  that  he  was  practically  useless. 

He  grew  silent,  almost  irritable.  It  angered  him  that  he 
could  not  endure  the  suspense  with  greater  calmness,  but  he 
could  not.  He  told  himself,  and  indeed  he  was  absolutely 
certain,  that  he  had  but  to  wait  for  the  day  named  by  her, 
to  learn  that  his  beloved  was  really  his,  but  it  was  so  hard 
to  wait.  The  hours  were  leaden,  the  days  intolerably  long ; 
he  fretted  and  fumed  secretly,  but  when  at  last  the  morning 
dawned  that  permitted  him  to  seek  her,  a  great  peace,  a 
sense  of  rest  perfected  fell  on  him.  It  was  the  last  he  was 
to  know  for  many  a  day  ! 

Marvel  and  he  breakfasted  together,  and  he  told  her 
that  he  should  be  obliged  to  leave  her  and  go  up  to  town 
for  the  day. 

"  In  all  probability  I  shall  not  return  until  to-morrow," 
he  said.  Fond  visions  of  spending  the  evening  with  Leonie 
floated  before  him  as  he  spoke.  An  evening  with  her  as 
her  affianced  husband,  as  the  one  she  held  dearest  on  earth 
— as  he  held  her.  "But  you  must  not  be  lonely.  You  must 
not  let  one  of  your  sad  little  fits  of  depression  take  posses- 
sion of  you  in  my  absence.  It  is  for  the  day  only,  re- 
member, and  the  hours  will  be  short."  Too  short,  he 
thought. 

"  Oh  !  so  long,"  corrected  she.  He  had  induced  her  to 
take  the  head  of  the  table,  and  now  she  was  pouring  out 


MAKVEL.  47 

his  coffee  for  him  in  a  nervous,  childish  fashion.     As  she 
spoke  she  looked  sorrowfully  at  him. 

"  Why  are  you  going  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  Business,"  promptly. 

"  I  wish  I  could  go  with  you.  I  suppose,"  with  hopeful 
doubt,  "  I  couldn't  ?  " 

"  My  dear  girl,  no.  And  you  wouldn't  like  it  if  you 
could." 

"  Oh !  If  I  should  be  in  the  way  !  "  said  she. 

"  It  isn't  that.  But  just  fancy  how  dull  you  would  find 
it  all  by  yourself  in  an  hotel.  I  should  be  too  occupied  to 
take  you  about  and  amuse  you." 

"I  shouldn't  mind  that.  And  as  to  being  dull  in  an 
hotel,  I  shouldn't,  indeed.  I  was  never  in  one,  and  I  could 
walk  about  it  all  day,  and  examine  it,  and  peep  into  the 
rooms,  and  enjoy  myself  very  well — that  is,  as  well  as  I 
could  without  you." 

"  You  couldn't  do  anything  of  the  kind,"  said  Wriothes- 
ley,  divided  between  a  desire  to  laugh  and  to  enlarge  her 
mind  on  the  subject.  "  Young  ladies  can't  walk  about 
hotels  or  peep  into  rooms  that  belong  to  other  people  with- 
out being  considered  at  least  peculiar.  You  don't  want  to 
be  considered  peculiar,  do  you  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know,"  said  Marvel,  who  was  plainly  too 
disappointed  to  be  argued  with  effectually.  "  I  suppose  I 
could  stay  in  my  own  room  at  all  events,"  she  said  pre- 
sently, as  though  indignantly  defying  the  hotel  people  to 
turn  her  out  of  that  at  all  events.  "  And  afterwards,  when 
your  business  was  over,  you  would  come  back — and " 

"My  business  will  take  up  ail  my  time — and — in  fact,  I 
can't  take  you,"  said  he  with  some  impatience. 

She  put  down  the  toast  she  had  been  eating,  and  two 
large  tears  gathering  in  her  eyes  fell  down  her  cheeks. 

"What's  the  matter  now?"  demanded  he  in  despair. 

"It  isn't  true,"  she  sobbed  angrily  from  behind  her 
black-bordered  handkerchief.  "  You  said  you  would  be 
the  same  to  me  as  auntie  was ;  and — and  there  isn't  a  word 
of  truth  in  it.  She  wouldn't  have  left  me  behind.  She 
would  have  taken  me  with  her  wherever  she  went." 

"  Can't  you  understand,  Marvel,  that  there  may  be  reasons 


48  MAEVEL. 

why  I  cannot,"  he  said.  To  talk  to  her  about  such  things 
as  propriety  or  les  convenances  seemed  to  him  a  hopeless 
task,  and  one  that  might  be  prolonged  for  an  eternity.  No 
child  bred  within  the  four  walls  of  a  convent  was  ever  so 
unsophisticated  as  she.  He  was  not  altogether  sure  that 
Lady  Mary's  training  had  been  a  judicious  one,  as  he  sat 
there,  feeling  how  impossible  it  was  to  put  the  case  clearly 
before  her.  At  all  events,  it  was  a  very  troublesome  train- 
ing, for  those  who  came  after.  And  yet,  if  troublesome, 
how  sweet !  Through  all,  he  acknowledged  that. 

"  Do  try  to  understand  that,"  he  said. 

"  Well,  I  will,"  tearfully  and  with  an  effort ;  then,  "  Will 
you  be  back  soon  ?  " 

"  Yes.     Soon,  I  hope." 

"  But  at  once,  I  mean,"  eagerly,  and  with  a  beseeching 
look  at  him  from  behind  the  urn.  "  By  the  very  first  train 
in  the  morning." 

"  Well,  no ;  not  by  the  first  train,  that  goes  at  about 
3  a.m.  And,  perhaps — I  think  it  better  to  tell  you, 
Marvel,  because  disappointment  would  be  worse  to  you — 
I  think  there  is  a  possibility  that  I  may  not  be  able  to 
return  until  the  day  after  to-morrow."  He  spoke  quite 
steadily,  telling  what  he  believed  to  be  the  truth,  more  for 
her  sake  than  his  own,  and  rather  against  his  will,  as  he 
feared  another  outburst  of  grief  when  she  should  hear  it. 
But  he  was  mistaken.  She  made  so  sign  of  being  sunk  in 
deeper  depths  of  woe,  save  a  small  sigh  of  resignation.  Her 
crestfallen  air  incensed  him.  Good  heavens,  what  was  it  she 
expected ! 

"My  dear  child,"  he  said  raising  his  brows,  "you  didn't 
suppose  I  was  going  to  spend  the  rest  of  my  natural  life 
here,  did  you,  walking  up  and  down  the  garden  path  ?  " 

"No,"  forlornly.  "But — how  I  wish  you  -would/"  She 
said  it  with  such  heartfelt  longing  that,  after  a  struggle  with 
his  better  feelings,  he  burst  out  laughing.  He  laughed  long 
and  heartily  in  spite  of  his  desire  to  suppress  himself, 
whilst  Marvel  sat  opposite  and  stared  at  him.  He  could 
see  that  she  was  distinctly  offended,  though  she  sought  hard 
to  conceal  that  fact  and  quite  believed  she  had  effectually 
done  so  when  she  had  asked  him,  in  what  she  fondly,  but 


MARVEL.  49 

erroneously,  supposed  to  be  her  natural  tone,  to  have  some 
more  coffee.  It  was  bathos  upon  pathos  !  He  repressed  him- 
self then  and  said,  "  No,  thank  you,"  with  such  a  contrite 
air  that  she  relented,  and  finally  made  it  up  with  him  by 
coming  from  behind  the  ponderous  urn  and  slipping  into  a 
chair  close  to  his  elbow.  Thus  placed,  she  made  an  excellent 
breakfast,  and  was  rather  more  cheerful  than  he  had  seen 
her  since  her  auntie's  death. 

She  walked  down  to  the  gate  with  him  presently,  past 
the  flowering  rhododendrons  and  through  the  sweet  avenue 
of  limes,  the  dogcart  having  been  sent  on  before  at  her 
particular  request.  During  that  hateful  minute  when  he 
had  laughed  at  her  she  had  made  up  her  mind  not  to  be 
dismal  again,  at  least,  before  him,  and  she  chattered  inces- 
santly all  down  the  drive,  throwing  in  even  a  laugh  here  and 
there  to  show  him  how  gay  she  was,  until  the  tall  iron  gates 
were  in  view.  They  were  open,  and  the  dogcart  stood 
outside,  a  little  turned  up  the  road,  so  that  it  and  the  groom 
were  not  to  be  seen.  She  felt  that  she  could  go  no  farther 
and  stopped  short.  All  at  once  her  courage  forsook  her, 
and  finally  she  took  leave  of  him  as  if  he  were  going  to 
New  Zealand. 

"  It  will  be  a  terrible  time,"  she  said ;  "  a  sort  of  a 
small  year,  but  I  shall  try  not  to  mind  it  much" 

"  And  if  I  should  not  return  the  day  after  to-morrow," 
he  ventured  in  a  rather  nervous  tone.  He  felt  he  was 
growing  quite  afraid  of  her.  "  There  is  a  bare  possibility ; 
that  is, — perhaps  I  may  be  detained." 

He  paused,  wondering  how  she  would  take  this,  and 
was  at  last  quite  surprised  by  her  manner  of  acceptance. 
It  was  altogether  so  '  different  from  what  he  had  ex- 
pected. 

"You  won't,"  she  said  confidently.  "You  said  'per- 
haps '  to  it,  and  that  always  means  a  doubt,  and  I  know 
things  could  not  happen  so  unkindly  as  to  keep  you  away 
longer  than  the  day  after  to-morrow."  She  clung  to  the 
words  he  himself  had  used. 

"  What  shall  I  bring  you  from  town,"  he  asked  laughing, 
"a  doll?" 

"  Nonsense  1  Don't  you  see  that  I'm  grown  up.  Now 

4 


jo  MAEVEL. 

go — g0  quickly ;" giving  him  a  little  push,  "the  sooner  you 
go,  the  sooner  you  will  come  back  to  me." 

The  horse  was  growing  restive,  and  had  now  backed  into 
full  view  of  the  two  standing  in  the  avenue.  Wriothesley 
jumped  into  the  cart  and  gathered  up  the  reins,  and  Marvel 
turned  disconsolately  away  and  went  towards  the  house. 
Wriothesley  cast  a  glance  at  her  and  saw  she  had  come  to 
a  standstill  and  that  her  eyes  were  full  of  tears.  He 
waved  an  adieu  to  her  which  she  returned,  and  then 
walked  quickly  away.  Poor  little  lonely  girl !  Through 
his  heart  there  rushed  a  pang  of  sincerest  pity  for  her. 

All  through  his  drive  to  the  station  his  mind  was  more 
or  less  occupied  by  her,  and  he  came  to  the  conclusion 
that  it  was  a  distinctly  troublesome,  if  very  sweet,  legacy,, 
that  Lady  Mary  had  left  him.  What  a  dear  little  thing 
she  was,  but  how  impracticable.  What  on  earth  was  he  to 
do  with  her?  His  marriage  with  Leonie  would  not  in  all 
probability  come  off  for  some  time,  and  meanwhile  where 
was  Marvel  to  be  placed.  She  was  too  old  for  school, 
unfortunately,  but  not  old  enough  to  live  on  with  him  at 
The  Towers  without  unkind  comment  from  the  world. 
He  might,  of  course,  give  up  The  Towers  to  her,  but 
that  too  would  create  attention,  and  already  Leonie's  mind 
was  strangely  exercised  about  her.  A  bright  thought 
struck  him.  He  would  consult  Leonie  on  the  matter.  And 
perhaps,  she  was  so  charming,  she  would  arrange  for  Marvel 
to  stay  with  her  until  by  their  marriage  they  should  make 
a  settled  home  for  her.  He  dwelt  on  this  all  the  way  to 
town,  and  only  lost  sight  of  it  as  he  drew  near  Mrs. 
Scarlett's  house  in  Park  Lane.  Then  a  sense  of  nervous 
happiness  took  possession  of  him,  blotting  out  all  lesser 
thoughts.  It  seemed  to  him  that  he  could  see  her  awaiting 
him,  with  softened  eyes  and  hands  outstretched,  and  a  little 
tremulous  murmur  of  words  sweet  and  loving.  Her  face 
rose  before  him,  unusual  in  its  loveliness,  and  therefore  to 
be  prized  the  more  : 

"  Nought  under  heaven  so  strongly  doth  allure, 
The  sence  of  man  and  all  his  minde  possese, 
As  beautie's  lovely  baite." 

His  mind  was  fixed  on  her,  and  a  very  rapture  of  joy 


MAKVEL.  51 

filled  him  as  he  told  himself  that  never  man  yet  was  surer 
of  being  loved  in  kind  tnan  he  was — unworthy  though  he 
must  be  deemed  1 


CHAPTER  IX. 

**  O,  all  fair  lovers  about  the  world, 

There  is  none  of  you,  none,  that  shall  comfort  me. 
My  thoughts  are  as  dead  things,  wrecked  and  whirled 

Round  and  round  in  a  gulf  of  the  sea  : 
*  *  *  #  * 

The  bright  fine  lips  so  cruelly  curled." 

MRS.  SCARLETT  was  alone.  She  was  very  simply,  but  very 
exquisitely  and  expensively  dressed,  and  she  was  as  calm 
and  softly  smiling  as  though  love's  tumults  were  unknown 
to  her.  Perhaps  they  were.  She  rose  as  Wriothesley 
entered,  and  greeted  him  with  precisely  the  proper  amount 
of  gravity  suitable  to  an  occasion  where  a  young  man  had 
lost  his  mother,  for  Lady  Mary,  she  knew,  had  been  quite 
that  to  him. 

"  I  have  so  wondered  when  you  would  come,"  she  said. 
He  looked  at  her  quickly.  When  he  should  come  ?  How 
strange  her  tone  was!  Had  she  forgotten  !  Oh,  no,  no, 
that  was  impossible.  "  Did  you  get  my  note  ?  No  ?  Oh  ! 
I  am  so  sorry  about  that.  You  must  have  thought  me  so 

cold,  so  unfeeling ;  but  nowadays ;  don't  you  think  the 

postal  arrangements  are  very  defective  ?  I  wish  you  had 
had  that  note ;  but  even  without  it,  dear  Wriothesley,  you 
know  you  had  all  through  my  sincerest  sympathy." 

"  Did  you  think  I  ought  to  have  come  ?  "  said  he,  cling- 
ing in  a  dull  sort  of  way  to  her  first  sentence.  Perhaps  he 
had  offended  her  by  obliging  her  too  closely  and  keeping 
away  until  the  day  named.  He  hoped  so,  with  a  passion 
of  which  he  himself  was  hardly  aware.  He  had  heard 
nothing  more  that  she  had  said,  but  only  those  first  words. 

"Oh  no.  Under  the  circumstances,  I  could  not  have 
expected,  or  desired,  that  you  should  call.  I  hope  I  am 
too  much  your  friend  not  to  know  when  to  efface  myself." 

4—2 


5*  MARVEL. 

She  smiled,  her  brilliant  rapid  smile.  "  Indeed  I  did  not 
dare  to  think  I  should  have  the  pleasure  of  seeing  you 
again  for  quite  a  long  time  to  come.  But  you  have  been 
very  good  to  me.  Do  you  know — "  leaning  towards 
him — "  the  very  last  thing  I  expected  was  to  see  you 
to-day." 

What  did  it  all  mean?  Why  did  she  speak  to  him 
like  that  ?  His  friend  !  How  strange  it  all  was  !  He  felt 
dazed  and  confused,  and  a  surging  sound  came  into  his  ears 
and  tormented  him.  "  The  very  last  thing  she  had  ex- 
pected." Then  the  surging  sound  died  away  from  him, 
and  he  found  himself  quite  calm,  and  cold.  She  was  still 
talking  in  her  soft  tratnantc  voice,  that  was  so  subtly  sweet. 

"  Though  personally  unknown  to  me,  I  feel  from  all  I 
have  heard  that  Lady  Mary  Craven  was  a  friend  not  to  be 
replaced" 

This  tribute  was  very  gracefully  uttered,  but  Wriothesley 
could  find  no  words  to  reply  to  it.  He  wished  vaguely 
that  she  would  not  speak  about  that  good  dead  woman,  yet 
he  did  not  know  at  the  moment  why  he  wished  it.  He 
was  occupied  with  this  curious  change  in  her,  that  he  could 
not  fathom. 

"  You  are  right,"  he  said  gravely ;  "  Lady  Mary's  was  a 
singularly  perfect  nature." 

"  All  her  acquaintances  say  that.  And  the  little  girl — 
the  protegee — what  of  her  ?  " 

She  spoke  more  rapidly  than  was  her  wont,  as  though 
she  feared  a  silence,  and  he  felt  that  she  was  warding  him 
off,  and  unconsciously  his  manner  became  colder  towards 
her. 

"  That  is  a  matter  that  has  been  troubling  me,"  he  said ; 
"she  is  such  a  child  that  it  is  impossible  to  make  her  under- 
stand certain  things.  Yet,  of  course,  she  cannot  go  on 
living  at  The  Towers  in  the  old  way.  I  hardly  know  what 
to  do  with  her." 

"  Why,  marry  her,  of  course,"  said  Mrs.  Scarlett  laugh- 
ing. "  That  is  the  best  and  readiest  way  to  solve  such  a 
problem  as  that." 

"  You  are  jesting,  of  course  ?  "  he  said  very  slowly. 

"  Indeed  not     Why  should  you  think  so  ?     If  all  that 


MARVEL.  53 

we  outsiders  hear  is  true,  she  was  well  named  Marvel  by 
you.  She  is  a  very  vision  of  loveliness,  is  she  not  ?  Why, 
how  conscious  you  look  !  I  do  believe  that  that  marriage 
scheme  has  already  suggested  itself  to  you." 

"  Your  usual  clear-sightedness  is  at  fault  there,"  said 
Wriothesley  with  a  pale  smile.  "  The  only  thing  that  has 
suggested  itself  to  me  in  that  line  has  been  my  marriage 
with  yourself." 

"  Ah !  by-the-by,  as  to  that,"  she  said,  as  if  suddenly 
remembering  something  of  trivial  importance,  "  I  have 
been  thinking  it  over,  and  I  have  come  to  the  conclusion 
that  it  wouldn't  do.  It  wouldn't  do  at  all !  Was  this  the 
day  I  told  you  to  call  ?  But  of  course  !  how  stupid  of  me 
to  let  it  slip  my  memory.  "  Well " — smiling — "  you  have 
had  an  escape.  Much  reflection  has  revealed  to  me  the 
fact  that  you  were  born  for  a  better  woman  than  I  am." 

Wriothesley  was  staring  at  her,  pale  and  very  still.  She 
cast  a  swift  glance  at  him,  and  saw  something  in  his  eyes 
that  so  far  affected  her  that  she  did  not  care,  or  else  feared, 
to  look  again. 

"  You  don't  mean  a  word  of  all  that,"  he  said  at  last, 
with  suppressed  violence  in  his  tone.  "  You  shan't  mean 
it !  Do  you  hear  ?  " 

"  Perfectly  !  "  She  made  an  attempt  at  laughter.  "  But, 
after  all,  I  do  mean  it." 

"  You  do  /  You  dare  to  say  that  to  me ! — that  you 
mean  it — after  all.  Do  you  remember  that " 

"That  I  made  you  no  promise,"  interrupted  she  hur- 
riedly. She  shut  up  her  fan  with  an  impatient  click  and 
threw  it  from  her.  "  I  hope  you  are  not  going  to  be  un- 
reasonable," she  said.  "  I  do  hope  you  are  not  going  to 
make  me  a  scene." 

"Is  that  all?  Is  that  the  end  of  it?  I  am  to  be 
reasonable  and  not  to  make  you  uncomfortable  by  telling 
you  a  few  home  truths.  Is  that  what  I  came  here  to-day 
to  hear  ?  "  Then  his  voice  changed  and  grew  quiet  but 
harsh.  "  What  has  happened  ?  "  he  said.  "  Who  is  it  ?  " 

She  waived  the  question  : 

"I  said  I  should  have  time,"  she  explained,  speaking 
quickly.  "  I  asked  for  a  week,  and  now  at  the  end  of  it  I 


54  MARVEL. 

beg  to  decline  the  honour  you  would  do  me.  There  is 
nothing  in  all  that  to  reproach  me  with." 

The  blood  seemed  to  rush  in  a  torrent  to  his  heart,  and 
then  flowed  back  again,  leaving  him  pulseless  and  chilled 
as  marble.  Again  that  odd  surging  sound  beat  on  his 
brain,  and  his  lips  felt  parched  and  dry. 

"  Something  has  happened,"  he  persisted.  "  What  is  it  ? 
I  do  not  entreat  you  to  change  your  mind  about  all  this ; 
but  I  must  know " 

"  If  you  really  expected  a  different  answer,  I  can  only 
say" — icily — "that  I  deeply  regret  it." 

"  Do  you  ?     That  is  very  good  of  you.     It  is  more  than 

one  should  hope  for,  that  you  should  feel  regret  for • 

Great  Heaven  !"  he  burst  out  with  a  passion  that  shook  her, 
hard  as  she  was,  "to  think  that  the  earth  should  hold 
such  women  as  you !  You,  who  have  lain  in  my  arms  and 
let  me  kiss  you,  and  have  kissed  me  back  again  ;  who  have 
fooled  me  to  the  top  of  your  bent,  only  to  feel  regret  for 
the  victim  when  the  moment  comes  to  cast  him  aside." 

She  looked  at  him  through  half-closed  lids. 

"  I  am  not  fond  of  amateur  performances,"  said  she  with 
a  curl  of  her  lip.  "  And  to  remind  me  of — of  anything 
that  may  have  occurred  between  us  is  hardly  what  I  should 
have  accused  you  of.  May  I  be  permitted  to  say  that 
it  is  scarcely  in  good  taste  ?  However,  I  am  grateful  tc 
you  for  this  revelation — this  glimpse  into  your  inner  self — 
as  it  has  helped  me  to  kill  that  regret  to  which  you  so 
vehemently  object." 

"  Who  is  it  ? "  demanded  he  again  abruptly.  Her  in- 
solent scorn  had  not  touched  him.  He  thought  only  of  an 
answer  to  this  question  that  should,  tell  him  all.  She 
regarded  him  steadily  for  a  moment. 

"  I  think  there  had  better  be  an  end  of  this,"  she  said. 

"  So  there  shall  be  when  I  know  who  has  taken  my  place." 

"  Your  place  ?     What  place  ?     What  is  it  you  mean  ?  " 
.   "I  mean  to  know  the  name  of  the  man  you  intend  to 
marry  before  I  leave  this  house,"  retorted  he  doggedly. 

His  tone  angered  her  even  more  than 'his  persistence. 

"  Know  it  then  ! "  she  cried,  flashing  round  at  him — 
''The  Duke  of  Dawtry!" 


MAEVEL.  55 

Wriothesley  started  as -if  shot.  He  grew  deadly  pale, 
and  such  a  strange  light  grew  within  his  eyes  that  for  the 
moment  she  was  frightened  ;  then  it  all  passed  away,  and  sud- 
denly he  was  upon  his  knees  before  her,  clasping  her  gown. 
The  perfume  of  violets  came  to  him  as  he  knelt  there— 
(those  flowers  that  she  always  wore) — and  seemed  to  enfold 
him  in  a  dull,  misty  sweetness. 

"  My  darling,  not  that,"  he  cried  wildly,  "  not  that  old 
man  !  Oh,  the  shame,  the  horror  of  it !  Leonie  !  listen 
to  me — be  patient.  You  think  that  rank,  money,  those 
tawdry  benefits  that  he  can  bestow  on  you,  will  suffice  you. 
will  make  you  happy.  I  tell  you,  no.  Hear  me  before  it 
is  too  late.  Is  love — such  love  as  I  can  offer — my  whole 

heart  and  life,  as  nothing  to  you  when  compared  with " 

He  would  have  gone  on,  but  something  in  her  face  checked 
him.  She  lay  back  in  her  chair  and  laughed  aloud.  It  was 
a  clear  ringing  laugh,  not  forced  or  strained,  but  free  and 
replete  with  amusement.  She  drew  her  gown  from  his 
fingers,  and  motioned  to  him  to  rise. 

"  You  think  a  good  deal  of  that  love  of  yours,"  she  said 
mockingly — "certainly  more  than  I  do!" 

That  sobered  him.  He  rose  to  his  feet,  pale  still,  but 
quite  composed. 

"Are  you  going?  "  she  said.  "  It  is  a  pity  our  friendship 
should  end  like  this,  but  it  is  your  own  fault.  As  I  told 
you,"  shrugging  her  shoulders,  "  you  are  not  reasonable. 

You  believed I  don't  know,"  petulantly,  "  what  you 

believed." 

"  I  believed  myself  your  lover,"  replied  he  steadily. 
"  I  believed  that  as  such  I  was  regarded  by  you." 

"  If  you  did,  you  have  only  yourself  to  blame."  Again 
that  quick  anger  flamed  into  her  eyes.  How  did  he  dare 
to  stand  there  and  coldly  condemn  her  !  "  But  //you  did, 
there  is  still  one  thing  left  for  me  to  do." 

She  swept  out  of  the  room  into  the  boudoir  beyond,  and 
presently  returning,  flung  upon  a  table  before  him  a  mass 
of  glittering  gems — rings,  bracelets,  necklets,  and  such- 
like baubles. 

"  Will  you  take  them  with  you,  or  shall  I  send  them  f  " 
she  said. 


56  MARVEL. 

It  was  all  so  horrible,  so  unexpected,  so  second-rate,  that 
for  a  while  Wriothesley  stood  there  motionless,  as  one 
stunned  and  unable  to  realize.  Then,  still  a  little  un- 
consciously, he  took  up  his  hat,  bowed  to  her,  and  left  the 
room. 


CHAPTER  X. 

tt  Give  me  a  look,  give  me  a  face, 
That  makes  simplicity  a  grace." 
•  *  *  » 

M  Beneath  her  eyelids  deep, 
Love  lying,  seems  asleep, 
Love  swift  to  wake,  to  weep, 
To  laugh,  to  gaze." 

THE  air  outside  beat  on  his  forehead  and  in  a  measure 
revived  him.  He  understood,  at  last,  though  as  yet 
vaguely,  that  his  idol  had  fallen  from  its  pedestal,  that  it 
had  been  smashed,  and  that  what  he  had  deemed  gold  un- 
alloyed had  been  after  all  only  vilest  clay.  He  sauntered 
on,  not  heeding  the  crowd  as  it  went  by  him,  and  finally 
he  turned  into  St.  James'  Park,  and  there  gave  himself  up 
a  prey  to  the  bitter  waking  recollections  of  a  sweet  dead 
dream. 

Well !  it  was  all  over.  He  had  thought  himself  young 
a  while  ago.  How  long  ago  ?  Only  this  morning.  And 
now  he  knew  that  he  was  old.  For  what  are  years  ?  Not 
they  but  the  cruel  disappointments  of  life  kill  youth.  And 
who  could  have  thought  she  would  have  been  like  that  ? 
So  cold,  so  bloodless,  so  cruel !  All  at  once  a  great  con* 
tempt  for  her  awoke  in  his  mind.  He  left  the  park  and 
bent  his  steps  towards  his  club.  In  Pall  Mall  he  met  a 
man  he  knew,  and  stayed  to  speak  to  him  for  a  moment 
or  two.  It  was  the  usual  thing,  Mr.  Gladstone's  last  speech, 
the  touch  of  irritability  he  had  shown  in  the  House  last 
night.  He  felt  impatient,  and  with  a  quick  word  parted 
from  his  friend  and  crossed  the  street. 


MAEVEL. 


57 


In  his  club  he  settled  down  into  a  chair,  and  taking  up 
The  Times  affected  to  busy  himself  in  its  contents.  He 
saw  nothing  more  than  the  fact  that  so  many  columns  went 
to  the  sheet,  but  it  sufficed  him.  He  hardly  cared  to 
know  what  the  debate  was  about  last  night.  He  could  see 
nothing  but  her  mocking  face  as  she  laughed  at  his  love, 
and  drew  back  disdainfully  her  skirts  from  his  giasp. 
Even  then  he  had  seen  how  beautiful  she  was  through  the 
treachery  that  enfolded  her. 

"  Was  ever  book,  containing  such  vile  matter, 
So  fairly  bound  ?  O,  that  deceit  should  dwell 
In  such  a  gorgeous  palace  1 " 

Some  men  strolled  into  the  room  and  one  accosted  him. 

"  Puzzling  over  that  Irish  question  ?  "  asked  he,  leaning 
over  the  top  of  the  paper  to  say  it.  "  Give  it  up  if  you 
don't  want  your  brain  to  turn.  Blake  came  from  Ireland 
last  night  and  says  the  Kerry  boys  have  made  up  their 
minds  to  crush  England.  The  Horse  Guards,  I  hear,  are  in 
an  awful  pucker,  and  the  Admiralty  have  issued  orders  to 
man  the  fleet." 

Wriothesley  managed  to  smile  at  this  facetious  person, 
and  then  throwing  the  paper  aside  left  the  room.  He 
could  not  stay  there  without  having  to  listen  and  make 
replies,  and  that  was  beyond  him  just  then.  He  was  a 
popular  man,  people  were  always  glad  to  see  him,  but  he 
felt  he  could  not  be  sociable  to-day. 

It  was  close  on  evening  as  he  left  the  club.  He  walked 
on  aimlessly  until  he  came  to  Waterloo  Place,  at  the  corner 
of  which  a  carriage  passed  him.  He  lifted  his  eyes 
mechanically  to  look  at  its  occupant. 

He  saw  an  old  man,  half  buried  in  furs  on  this  sultry 
day.  The  withered  face  was  ghastly  with  paint  and  such 
pigments  as  aged  fools  use  with  intent  to  keep  with  them  the 
youth  they  have  had  well-nigh  time  to  forget.  An  eyeglass 
was  squeezed  into  the  bleared  eyes,  an  automatic  smirk 
widened  the  carefully  coloured  lips,  that  were  red  enough  to 
suit  a  Hebe,  as  he  bent  for \vard  to  salute  a  pretty  woman, 
who  flashed  by  in  her  Victoria,  It  was  the  Duke  of 
Daw  try  1 


58  MARVEL. 

Wriothesley's  heart  grew  sick  within  him.  He  had  seen 
him  twice  before,  but  on  both  times  at  night,  when  even 
beneath  the  kindly  light  of  the  subdued  lamps  he  had 
seemed  to  him  a  fit  object  for  passing  scorn.  But  now  in 
the  broad  daylight,  with  its  truthfully  cruel  sun  lighting 
up  each  wrinkle  and  furrow,  how  inexpressibly  loathsome 
he  appeared.  And  to  this  pitiful  object  she  was  about  to 
surrender  herself,  body  and  soul,  for  the  sake  of  a  false 
ambition. 

The  knowledge  struck  him  as  being  full  of  sorrow.  Such 
a  careless  flinging  away  of  life's  best  gifts  !  Such  a  paltry 
gain.  And  then  he  told  himself  that  if  she  could  do  this 
thing  of  her  own  free  will,  she  was  not  worthy  the  poorest 
compassion,  for  she  was  past  all  feeling. 

He  had  walked  quite  a  long  way — all  up  the  Strand  and 
through  Fleet  Street,  and  was  in  the  very  heart  of  the  City 
when  suddenly  a  craving  for  the  sweet  cool  country  came 
upon  him.  There  he  might  bury  himself,  and  "  dree  his 
weird "  without  this  maddening  hum,  this  flavour  of 
hideous  life,  that  pressed  him  in  on  every  side.  Oh  !  for 
the  green  fields,  the  silence,  the  farness  from  the  "hum, 
the  shock  of  men." 

He  stepped  into  a  hansom,  then  into  the  train,  and  as  the 
light  began  to  fade  he  reached  The  Towers. 

The  sun  was  sinking.  Again  he  had  walked  through  the 
wooded  uplands  as  on  the  first  day  of  his  return,  and  all 
the  beauty  of  a  perfect  summer's  evening  was  around  him. 

a  An  odour  of  hay  o'er  the  woodlands  blown  " 

was  wafted  by  him,  and  the  fresh  warm  resinous  perfume  of 
the  firs  met  and  mingled  with  it.  He  opened  the  postern 
gate,  all  overhung  with  ivy,  that  led  into  the  pleasaunce,  and 
went  on  slowly  towards  the  house. 

He  could  see  it  now,  and  the  long  straight  walk  that  led 
to  the  gardens  beyond  that  were  hedged  in  by  walls  of  yew. 
He  went  towards  them,  thinking  always  in  a  dull  unin- 
terested way. 

"Hope  is  a  lover's  staff:  " 
that  he  had  lost,  and  henceforth  there  was  nothing  left  to 


MARVEL.  59 

him  on  which  to  lean.  He  had  gone  abroad  at  a  time  when 
friendships  warm  and  lasting  are  most  likely  to  be  made, 
and  those  he  had  made  were  now  behind  him  in  that  bright 
oriental  land.  As  for  relations,  he  had  none.  Lady  Mary 
was  the  last  of  them,  and  she  now  too  was  numbered  with 
the  dead,  that  love  not,  neither  do  they  remember. 

As  he  went  through  one  of  the  openings  in  the  yew  wall 
he  caught  a  glimpse  of  something  slender  and  shadowy 
standing  upon  the  balcony  that  ran  outside  the  library 
windows  He  paused  to  look  up  at  it,  himself  half  hidden. 
The  tall  childish  form  in  its  sombre  dinner-gown  of  black 
crape  he  recognized  presently  as  Marvel,  and  with  a  start 
he  suddenly  remembered  that  he  had  altogether  forgotten 
her.  Her  dress  was  made  in  the  old-fashioned  style  that 
Lady  Mary  had  always  chosen  for  her — close  fastened  round 
the  snowy  throat,  but  sleeveless;  her  arms,  white  as  that 
matchless  throat,  gleamed  against  the  darkness  of  her  gown. 
A  broad  black  sash  encircled  her  waist ;  her  bright  hair 
was  gathered  up  and  fastened  into  a  knot  on  the  top  of 
her  head  by  a  little  pearl  comb,  Lady  Mary's  last  gift, 
and  therefore  doubly  precious.  There  was  something  dis- 
consolate in  her  attitude  as  she  leant  against  a  marble  pillar 
and  looked  out  over  the  sea ;  but  all  traces  of  sorrow,  or 
whatever  it  was,  left  her  as  she  chanced  to  turn  her  head 
and  her  eyes  fell  upon  Wriothesley. 

A  low  cry  broke  from  her — a  cry  of  triumph  mixed  with 
happy  joy.  In  less  than  a  minute  she  had  run  down  the 
steps,  had  rushed  across  the  path  and  placed  her  hands  one 
on  each  of  his  arms. 

"  Didn't  I  say  so,"  she  cried ;  "  didn't  I  know  it  ?  Only 
not  quite  perhaps,  because  it  is  even  a  little  better  than  I 
knew.  I  felt  that  that  horrid  business  would  be  kind  and 
finish  itself  off  in  a  hurry,  and  let  you  come  back  to  me 
sooner  than  you  imagined.  Oh,  how  glad  I  am  to  have  you 
here  again  ;  but,"  arching  her  brows  with  a  sudden  expres- 
sion of  self  contempt,  "what  an  amount  of  self-pity  I  did 
waste  over  my  lonely  evening,  and  after  all  it  isn't  lonely 
at  all.  And  March  says  the  Pekin  duckling  would  take  a 
prize  at  any  show.  And  Molly  the  setter  has  had  pups — 
such  beauties.  And  Ashtaroth  the  foal  ran  away  with 


60  MARVEL. 

Peters.       And  • —  and    aren't    you    glad    to    be    home 
again  ?  " 

"  Yes,  very,"  he  said,  and  smiled  at  her.  But  there  was 
something  so  curious  about  the  smile  that  she  looked  at  him 
more  intently  and  turned  him  with  both  her  hands  so  that 
she  could  see  his  face  more  clearly,  and  then  at  once  her  joy 
died  away. 

"  What  has  given  you  that  strange  look  in  your  eyes  ?  " 
she  asked  with  all  a  child's  directness.  "  It  was  not  there 
when  you  left." 

"  No  ?  I  acquired  it  while  on  my  travels  then.  One 
must  purchase  such  things  sooner  or  later  on  one's  way 
through  life.  By-the-by,  talking  of  purchases,  I  forgot  to 
bring  you  that  doll  I  promised." 

"  Don't  talk  to  me  like  that,"  she  said  with  quaint 
seriousness,  "  but  tell  me  this  thing  truly.  Did  you 
learn  to  look  like  that  up  there  in  London  ?  " 

"  I  suppose  so,  though  I  don't  exactly  know  how  I 
look.  You  see  I  have  no  looking-glass  but  your  eyes  at 
present,  and  they  tell  me  nothing  but  that  you  are — at  this 
moment  at  all  events — a  very  grave  little  girl."  His 
attempt  at  lightness  did  not  deceive  her,  and  he  saw  it. 
"There,  do  not  worry  yourself  about  me,"  he  went  on 
hastily,  "  I  have  a  bad  headache — dyspepsia — neuralgia— 
what  you  will." 

"  I  know,"  she  said  sorrowfully,  drawing  back  a  little, 
"  I  know  quite  well  about  that.  It  means  that  I  am  not  to 
ask  you  questions — 'little  girls  should  be  seen  and  not 
heard  '  sort  of  thing.  Auntie  had  another  way  of  doing  it. 
She  used  to  ask  me  to  pick  her  a  bunch  of  flowers  in  the 
far  garden  whenever  she  wanted  to  speak  to  the  rector 
about  anything  I  was  not  to  hear.  But  is  it  to  go  on  for 
ever  like  that  ?  Am  I  never  to  be  grown  up,  really  ?  And 
besides,  when  one  knows  why  one  is  sent  away  to  pick 
flowers,  where  is  the  use  of  it?  Now  if  you  were  to  say 
to  me,  'Marvel,  do  not  please  ask  me  any  questions,'  I 
should  understand  quite,  and  it  would  be  far  better  than 
saying,  '  Marvel,  I  have  neuralgia,'  'when  you  haven't,  and," 
gravely,  " truer"  Then  with  quick  remorse,  " But  I  am 
teazing  you  and  you  are  unhappy.  I  wish,"  wistfully,  "  I 


MARVEL.  Gi 

knew  what  had  happened  to  you,  that  I  might  try  to  make 
you  forget  it."     Then  coaxingly,  "  Tell  me." 

She  was  standing  on  tiptoe,  and  with  the  slender  fingers 
of  her  right  hand  she  touched  his  face  and  turned  it 
towards  hers.  She  looked  so  fair,  so  sweet,  so  "  unspotted 
from  the  world,"  that  he  had  not  the  heart  to  rebuke  her ; 
and  presently  there  grew  on  him  a  great  desire  to  speak 
his  tiouble  aloud  to  some  one.  He  hesitated  still  for  a 
moment,  and  then : 

"  I  am  ruined,"  he  said  simply. 

"  Ruined  ! "  She  repeated  the  word,  gazing  blankly  at  him 
and  then  half-unconsciously  round  upon  the  glowing  garden, 
the  cool  verdures  beyond,  the  distant  pine-clad  hills,  al' 
standing  calm,  serene,  in  the  dewy  flower-scented  evening. 
"  Not  so  far  as  fortune  is  concerned,"  he  explained  with 
a  bitter  laugh.  "  My  lands,  my  home,  are  still  my  own, 
as  much  mine  as  they  were  yesterday ;  but,"  with  a  sudden 
dull  sense  of  pain,  "  with  what  different  eyes  I  gaze  upon 
them  to-day."  He  ceased  speaking,  and  it  appeared  as 
though  he  had  forgotten  she  was  still  there,  so  absent  grew 
his  look. 

"Some  one  has  been  unkind  to  you?"  she  said  timidly, 
speaking  her  question  very  low. 

"  Some  one  has  broken  my  heart,"  replied  he  slowly. 
"  Ah  !  "    She  pondered  over  this  for  a  while,  and  then— 
"  Was  that  why  you  came  home  so  soon  ?  " 
"  Yes." 

She   was   silent   for  a  few   minutes.     She   was   deeply 
grieved  for  him,  stirred  indeed  to  her  heart,  and  it  was  a 
most  tender  heart  too  ;  yet  far  down  in  the  depths  of  it  was 
a   little  proud  delight  that  in  his  sore  trouble  and  dis- 
appointment,   whatever    it   was,   and    she   was    far  from 
knowing,  his  first  thought  had  been  to  hasten  home  to  her. 
Poor  child  !   she  little  guessed  how  small  a  part  she  had 
held  in  his  vexed  mind  throughout  that  long  terrible  day. 
"  Was  it  in  London  it  happened  ?  " 
"  In  town  ?     Yes." 

"Ah!  auntie  often  told  me  it  was  a  most  unrighteous 
place,"  making  an  evident  quotation  with  almost  Lady 
Mary's  look  and  tone  and  with  a  doleful  shake  of  her 


M  MARVEL. 

graceful  head.  "  That  business  of  yours  went  wrong  then  ? 
You  did  not  succeed  ?  " 

"Perhaps  I  did,  who  knows,"  said  he  with  a  frown. 
Then  he  sighed.  "  Oh  !  yes,  it  went  abominably  wrong ;  I 
came  to  signal  grief  over  it." 

"  You  lost  your — suit  ?  " 

"  I  lost  everything.  My  case  was  dismissed  without  a 
hearing." 

"  It  was  a  bad  business  then  ?  " 

He  smiled  at  that  involuntarily. 

"  Very  bad.     Hopeless." 

"  And  who  was  your  enemy  ?     A  man  or  a  woman  ?  n 

"  I  could  not  call  her  an  enemy,"  said  he  absently ; 
"  hardly  that  in  any  fairness.  She  had  every  right  to 
choose  as  she  did." 

"  It  was  a  woman  then,"  triumphantly.  "  I  knew  it. 
Look,  I  will  tell  you  something,"  said  she  confidentially. 
"  I  don't  like  women  so  well  as  men ;  they  are  less  honest, 
I  think."  This  piece  of  wisdom,  evolved  apparently  from 
her  inner  consciousness — for  what  did  she  know  of  men  and 
women — she  delivered  with  a  profound  air.  "  Don't  you 
think  so  ?  " 

"  Not  when  I  look  at  you,"  returned  he  kindly,  patting 
her  shoulder.  "  I  am  not  so  blinded  by  prejudice  that  I 
can't  see  the  truth  that  shines  in  your  eyes  ;  and  don't 
mind  what  I  have  been  saying,  child.  It  would  be  a  sin 
to  burden  your  young  mind  with  troubles  such  as  mine. 
Forget  them,  and  remember  only  that  I  shall  in  all  proba- 
bility outlive  them." 

There  was  a  cynical  bitterness  in  his  tone  now  that  she 
liked  even  less  than  the  grief  he  had  shown  before.  The 
hot  tears  rushed  to  her  eyes. 

"  It  is  a  shame — a  shame  ! "  she  cried  indignantly. 
"This  morning  you  were  so  happy,  and  now — in  a  few 
short  hours — you  are  wretched,  and  all  because  of  some 
wicked  creature  in  that  big  hateful  city.  Ah  !  wait  until 
I  am  old  enough  to  go  there  and  find  her,  and  charge  her 
with  her  cruelty  to  you,  and  then  she  shall  see  !  " 

This  awful  threat  was  delivered  with  a  stamp  on  the 
ground  from  the  tinv  satin  slipper,  and  she  threw  up  her 


MAEVEL.  63 

head  with  the  air  of  an  offended  queen.  There  was  quite 
a  combative  look  in  her  soft  eyes.  It  was  a  charming 
picture  she  made,  standing  there  in  the  gloaming,  with  all 
her  affection  for  him  in  arms  to  do  battle  for  him. 

"  Thank  you,  my  little  champion,"  said  Wriothesley  with 
a  faint  smile.  "  If  you  look  like  that  when  you  lead  the 
attack,  all  must  go  down  before  you."  Then  he  sighed 
wearily  and  turned  away  from  her  and  went  moodily  down 
the  garden  path,  with  his  arms  folded  behind  him,  as  though 
she  had  never  been. 

But  she  was  too  faithful  to  take  offence  at  that. 

"  Where  are  you  going?  "  she  cried  eagerly,  running  after 
him.  "  Not  away  by  yourself,  to  think  of  that  odious 
business.  Oh,  don't  I  Are  you  not  hungry  ?  Will  you 
not  come  in  and "  she  paused  suddenly,  and  con- 
sternation lit  her  eyes.  "  What  shall  I  do  ?  "  she  said  in 
deep  distress.  "I  told  Mrs.  Bunch  (housekeeper)  not  to 
have  any  late  dinner  for  me,  as  you  would  dine  in  town. 
And  now  what  is  to  become  of  you  ?" 

"  Don't  trouble  yourself  about  that,  I  want  nothing." 

"  What  have  you  eaten  all  day  ?  "  asked  she,  regarding 
him  keenly.  "Had  you  any  luncheon?  No?  An  early 
dinner,  perhaps  ?  No  !  Why,"  severely,  "  I  do  believe 
you  have  had  nothing  I " 

11  The  best  meal  sometimes,"  said  he  ;  "  but  you  are 
wrong.  I  had  something.  My  breakfast  this  morning 
with  you." 

"  And  nothing  else  since  !     How  foolish  of  you.     Why, 
I  should  die  of  hunger  if  I  eat  nothing  all  day  but  m 
breakfast.     Now,  come  in  with  me,  I  am  going  to  hav 
high  tea,   and   I    shall  tell  Bolton  that  you  are  starving. 
Yes,  you   are;   and  he  will  see   that  there  is  something 
substantial  for  you,  and  champagne  and  things.      Come 
now,  do." 

It  was  impossible  to  refuse  her,  and  indeed  he  began  to 
be  uncomfortably  conscious  that  he  had  lived  on  nothing 
but  his  bitter  reflections  for  many  hours.  He  went  with 
her  into  the  house  and  there  let  her  minister  to  »him  to 
her  heart's  content. 


MAEVEL. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

44  Set  not  thy  heart  to  follow  after  fate.* 
«  *  *  *  » 

"  It  will  not  grow  again,  this  fruit  of  my  heart, 
Smitten  with  sunbeams,  ruined  with  rain." 

"  A  MARRIAGE  has  been  arranged  to  take  place  between  his 
Grace  the  Duke  of  Dawtry  and  Mrs.  Scarlett,  widow  of 
the  late  George  Scarlett,  Esq.,  of  Chowton  Hall,  Surrey,  and 
Middleton  Park,  Shropshire." 

Wriothesley  having  read  so  far  in  the  society  paper  he 
held,  clenched  his  hand  with  a  spasmodic  gesture  upon  the 
sheet,  and  rising  to  his  feet,  left  the  room  and  his  half- 
finished  breakfast  and  made  his  way  to  the  library. 

Here  he  paced  up  and  down  in  strong  excitement,  until 
the  first  shock  of  the  news,  as  seen  in  print,  had  worn  off. 
There  was  an  end  of  it  all  now  indeed  !  Hope  at  last  was 
dead !  He  had  given  room  to  it,  in  spite  of  that  scene 
with  her,  every  word  of  which  was  clearly  imprinted  on  his 
brain  ;  he  had  still  clung  to  the  belief  that  she  would  relent, 
would  at  last,  through  sheer  pity  for  herself,  break  that 
fatal  bond.  But  now  !  no,  she  would  not  draw  back  now ; 
she  had  blazoned  abroad  her  engagement.  The  whole 
world  knew  of  it  by  this  time.  She  meant  it. 

His  step  grew  slower,  but  his  impatience  quickened.  A 
longing  for  action  of  some  sort  possessed  him.  Yet  where 
could  he  go,  what  could  he  do  ?  The  world  of  town  was 
closed  to  him.  He  felt  he  could  not  show  himself  there  ; 
that  he  had  not  the  hardihood  sufficient  to  view  with 
equanimity  the  spectacle  she  would  make  dragging  that  old 
man  at  her  chariot-wheels.  And  to  stay  down  here,  in 
this  utter  stagnation — that  way  madness  lay !  He  had 
thought  with  longing  only  yesterday  of  the  cool  shades, 
the  silence,  the  eternal  calm,  but  now  he  knew  he  could 
not  endure  it,  that  this  simple  country  life  that  left  him  so 
free  to  follow  out  his  thoughts  from  -their  birth  to  their 
death,  Vas  too  cruel  a  thing  to  bear.  He  wanted  the  stir, 
the  bustle  of  living,  and  here  there  was  no  one — nothing ; 
not  a  soul  to  exchange  an  idea  with. 


MARVEL.  65 

A  clear  soft  voice  rang  through  the  old  hall : 

"  In  Scarlet  town  where  I  was  born, 
There  was  a  fair  maid  dwellin', 
Made  all  the  lads  cry  well-a-day, 
Her  name  was  Barb'ra  Allen." 

The  quaint  sad  little  ditty  smote  in  his  ears.  Yes,  there 
was  Marvel  certainly.  A  pretty  child,  but  only  that.  He 
should  have  to  arrange  about  her,  of  course,  before  leaving. 
He  comprehended  in  this  moment  that  he  had  made  up 
his  mind  to  go  abroad. 

The  sweet  girlish  voice  came  nearer,  rising  and  falling 
on  the  way : 

"Young  man,  I  think  you're  dying." 

She  opened  the  door,  and  seeing  him,  stopped  short. 

"You  here?  I  thought  you  had  gone  out.  And  do  you 
know  you  left  your  breakfast  behind  you  ?  You  are  busy  ? 
I  am  disturbing  you,  perhaps  ?  Well  I  can  go  away  again." 

"Stay,"  said  Wriothesley ;  "perhaps  it  is  I  who  am 
disturbing  you,  and  all  places  are  alike  to  me.  What 
brings  you  here  at  this  hour  ?  " 

"  To  study.  From  ten  to  eleven  I  read  my  French,  or 
German,  or  my  Latin.  The  rector,"  with  a  quaintly  learned 
air,  "  says  Latin  is  the  root  of  all  learning." 

"  And,  of  course,  the  rector  knows.  Has  he  forbidden 
such  frivolous  studies  as  music,  drawing " 

"  My  music  I  practise  from  one  to  two.  My  drawing 
later,  when  I  go  out  walking.  The  woods,  the  lake,  the  sea, 
give  me  ever  varying  views." 

"  Such  a  well  regulated  day  !  Why,  you  are  still  in  the 
schoolroom,  then  ?  "  said  he  in  some  surprise. 

"  Oh,  no  !  "  with  a  light  touch  of  offence.  "  I  have  no 
governess  now.  I  am  seventeen — I  am  grown  up  !  But  I 
do  all  this  because — because  I  have  always  done  it,  and 
because  auntie  would  be  vexed,  I  think,  if  she  knew  I  was 
idling  away  my  time." 

"  Faithful  little  soul ! "  said  Wriothesley.  And  then  after 
a  while,  "Well,  I  am  glad  you  can  so  happily  fill  your 
days,  as  work  that  is  not  irksome  to  you  will  keep  you 
from  ennui,  and — and  loneliness,  and  that.  I  should  not 

5 


66  MARVEL, 

like  to  think,  when  I  was  far  from  you,  that  you  had  that 
mournful  little  expression  of  yours  always  on  your  face." 

"  When  you  are — -far  from  me  ?  "  She  glanced  at  him 
nervously.  He  paused,  and  then  said  abruptly  : 

"  I  am  going  abroad." 

"  Abroad  ! "  She  echoed  the  word  faintly ;  her  hand 
fell  down  from  the  table  on  which  it  had  been  resting  and 
hung  loosely  by  her  side.  Wriothesley  was  not  looking  at 
her,  so  he  did  not  see  the  expression  on  her  face,  and  her 
voice  only  sounded  a  little  low  to  him,  no  more. 

"  Yes,  away  from  this  place — from  England — to — any- 
where I  I  find  I  cannot  stand  it.  That  '  business '  yester- 
day has  shown  me  that  life  here  would  be  intolerable.  I 
shall  remain  away  for  years,  I  daresay — for  ever,  /  hope. 
Of  course,  I  shall  see  about  you  before  going.  There  is 
my  cousin,  Mrs.  Verulam."  He  was  speaking  dreamily  now, 
as  if  more  to  himself  than  to  her.  "  She  is  young.  A  widow. 
She  has  few  ties,  beyond  that  child  of  hers.  She  would 
be  a  suitable  person — if  it  can  be  arranged.  And " 

The  girl  walked  over  to  the  window  and  pressed  her 
forehead  hard  against  the  cool  glass. 

"For  ever!"  she  said.  It  was  all  she  had  heard. 
Wriothesley  was  still  talking — always  rather  disconnectedly 
— but  she  was  not  listening.  Quite  at  once,  as  it  were,  she 
faced  him  with  a  vehement  air,  her  eyes  flashing,  her 
lips  deadly  white,  her  nostrils  dilated. 

"Your  promise!  "  she  cried,  "your  promise,  Fulke,  have 
you  forgotten  that  ?  " 

"  My  promise  !"  For  the  first  time  he  looked  at  her, 
and  marked  the  agitation  that  filled  her,  "what  promise  ?" 

"That  you  would  never  leave  me — that  you  would  stay 
with  me — that  you  would  be  to  me  what  auntie  was.  Oh, 
auntie,  auntie  I  You  told  me  I  should  never  be  lonely 
again — and  now ! — > — " 

"  If  you  will  only  listen " 

"  My  guardian  you  said  you  were.  A  guardian  is  one 
who  guards,  and  how  can  you  guard  me  if  you  go  abroad 
— -for  ever.  Oh,  who  could  think  you -would  be  so  cruel !  " 

She  sank  down  upon  a  chair,  overcome  by  the  intensity 
of  her  emotion.  Wriothesley  was  considerably  put  out, 


MARVEL,  67 

and,  indeed,  sorry  for  her,  but  he  felt,  too,  that  it  would 
have  given  him  pleasure  to  shake  her. 

"  My  dear  child,"  he  said,  "  people  often  make  rash 
promises  that  cannot  be  kept.  When  I  said  all  that  you 
have  so  correctly  quoted  I  quite  believed  my  home  would 
be,  for  the  future,  here  in  England ;  but  fate,  chance,  cir- 
cumstance, what  you  will,  has  ordained  it  otherwise.  I 
would  keep  my  promise  if  I  could — but — how  can  I?" 

She  started  to  her  feet. 

"  You  can,"  she  cried,  in  an  anguished  tone,  "  don't  you 
see  how  you  can  ?  Take  me  with  you  !  " 

He  looked  at  her  sharply,  and  instantly  came  to  the  con- 
clusion that  so  audacious  a  proposal  could  only,  in  her 
case,  come  from  one  supremely  innocent. 

"  I  didn't  promise  to  do  that,"  said  he,  hardly  knowing 
what  to  say. 

"  I  know,"  her  tone  was  full  of  sore  distress,  "but  your 
real  promise ;  you  can  fulfil  it  so.  I  don't  want  you  to 
live  in  England  !  I  don't  care  where  you  live,  I  only  want 
to  be  with  you." 

"  Look  here,  Marvel,"  said  he  with  some  asperity,  "  you 
are  very  young,  I  know,  but  that  is  no  reason  why  you 
should  be  a — er — so  utterly  absurd.  A  moment  ago  you 
were  rather  annoyed  with  me  because  I  imagined  you  to 
be  still  in  the  schoolroom  ;  you  wished  me  to  regard  you 
as  a  woman  grown,  yet  here  you  are  behaving  like  the 
veriest  baby.  It  is  time  you  should  learn  that  a  girl  of 
your  age  cannot  roam  about  the  world  with  a  man  of  mine, 
unless  he  were  to  marry  her  ! " 

He  thought  this  a  conclusive  argument,  but  there  he 
was  mistaken. 

"  Well,  why  don't  you  marry  me  then,"  said  she,  resentful 
tears  filling  her  eyes. 

He  stared  at  her  in  undisguised  amazement,  hardly 
knowing  what  to  say,  or  think  ;  and  then,  all  suddenly,  the 
meaning  of  her  words  struck  him.  If  he  were  to  marry 
her !  The  immediate  past  spread  itself  out  before  him, 
and  he  saw  again,  and  once  more  heard,  scenes  and  words 
that  were  over  and  done.  The  old  sweet  woman  with  her 
pale  beautiful  face,  calm  with  the  approach  of  death  un- 

5—2 


68  MARVEL. 

feared — he  saw  her  first,  and  heard  her  entreating  him,  in 
gentle  accents,  to  befriend  the  lonely  child  she  had  lo^ed 

and  reared.     Her  eyes  besought  him And  then,  that 

other,  with  a  devilry  of  mockery  in  her  beautiful  face, 
showing  him  that  solution  of  the  problem  that  perplexed 
him.  "  Marry  her,"  such  was  her  advice.  Well,  how  if  he 
obeyed  her  in  this,  as  he  had  in  all  things  during  their  brief, 
too  fatally  sweet  acquaintance !  With  a  fierce  joy,  he 
thought  of  how  she  would  look  when  first  she  heard  of  it. 
To  be  so  soon  forgotten — that  would  touch  her.  And  she 
had  always  been  jealous  of  the  child  ;  it  would  be  a  re- 
venge, satisfying  and  sure,  if  she  cared.  If  I  Why,  if 
he  hastened  matters  he  might  so  manage  as  to  be  married 
before  her.  She  should  not  think  of  him  for  long  as  a 
despondent  lover,  wounded  to  death ;  she  should  see  the 
announcement  of  his  marriage,  the  actual  accomplished 
fact  in  all  the  papers,  as  he  had  seen  that  cursed  on  dit 
about  hers  this  morning. 

Then  his  thoughts  grew  calmer  and  better  as  they  went 
back  to  Lady  Mary ;  his  promise  to  her  returned  to  him. 
A  promise  to  the  dead  should  be  sacred;  they  cannot 
reproach  or  accuse.  And  how  better  could  he  fulfil  his 
than  in  this  strange  way  that  Marvel,  in  her  ignorance, 
had  presented  to  him  ?  She  would  have  his  name,  a  sure 
protection,  and  at  his  death  (a  thing,  he  considered  with  a 
thrill  of  hope,  that  might  happen  to  him  at  any  time,  as  it 
does  to  all),  everything  of  which  he  was  possessed.  As 
for  the  child  herself  it  was  her  own  wish,  and  she  would 
certainly  pine  if  left  here  alone,  in  this  huge,  silent  house, 
with  those  dead  or  gone  who  had  been  all  in  all  to  her. 
And  he  would  be  her  friend  for  life,  that  he  swore  to  him- 
self. She  should  be  first  with  him  in  all  things — at  least, 
such  things  over  which  he  had  power.  To  love  again  as 
he  had — as  he  did  love  (he  was  at  all  events,  honest  with 
himself) — was  beyond  him.  In  this  wise,  fears  for  her 
future  would  be  ended.  It  helped  him,  too,  to  his  growing 
decision,  to  know  that  Lady  Mary,  .if  living,  would  have 
given  her  sanction  to  the  match.  Some  words  of  her* 
recurred  to  him,  and  repeated  themselves  over  and  over 
again  in  his  brain :  "  Wrapt  in  mystery  as  is  her  birth  I 


MAKVEL.  69 

should  yet  esteem  the  man  who  wins  her  heart  as  more 
than  usually  happy." 

He  looked  suddenly  to  where  Marvel  was,  and  what 
he  saw  there  hastened  his  decision.  She  was  sitting  on  a 
low  seat,  her  head  drooping,  her  fingers  interlaced  ;  deepest 
melancholy  lay  round  her  childish  lips. 

He  went  over  to  her,  and  leaning  on  the  back  of  a  chair, 
said  deliberately  : 

"  You  think  if  I  were  to  —  that  is,  if  you  were  to 
marry  me  it  would  arrange  matters,  and  make  you  happier  ? 
So  be  it,  then." 

She  drew  her  breath  quickly,  but  said  nothing. 

"  Will  you  ?  "  he  said. 

"Would  it  — "  lifting  her  large  anxious  eyes  to  his  — 
"  would  it  mean  that  you  would  take  me  with  you  when 
you  go  abroad  for  ever  ?  " 

"  Certainly.  That  is  exactly  what  it  would  mean."  No 
more,  he  thought. 

"  Then  I  will,"  she  said  solemnly. 

She  looked  at  him  earnestly,  and  as  she  looked  the 
gravity  died  from  her,  and  her  face  changed,  and  a  smile 
began  to  tremble  on  it.  A  moment  later  and  the  last 
remnant  of  her  grief  and  fear  had  vanished  as  a  cloud 
melts  before  the  embrace  of  the  sun. 

"  Is  it  true  ?  Is  it  real  ?  "  she  cried.  "  Shall  I  indeed 
go  with  you?  Oh  Fulkr  when  you  spoke  of  going  for 
ever  my  heart  felt  as  if  it  must  break  !  And  it  would  have 
broken;  I  could  not  have  lived  on  here  alone;  I  should 
have  died."  She  gave  a,sigh  to  that  past  misery.  "I  have 
no  one.  No  one  but  you,"  she  murmured.  "  And  now  I 
shall  have  you  always — always.  Oh  !  "  She  ran  to  him  in 
a  little  ecstasy  of  delight  and  threw  her  arms  round  him, 
and  gave  him  a  grateful  hug.  "  And  there  is  one  thing," 
she  went  on  presently,  leaning  back  from  him,  so  as  the 
better  to  look  into  his  face  and  mark  the  effect  of  her 
words,  "  I  shan't  be  a  bit  of  trouble  to  you.  Not  a  bit. 
You  shall  see  !  I  shall  be  as  good  as  gold  and  never  in 
the  way." 

"  Do  you  think  you  can  be  ready  in  a  hurry  ?  "  asked  he, 
filled  now  with  his  own  desire  to  quit  England  and  the 


jo  MARVEL. 

woman  who  had  deceived  him,  in  hot  haste.  "  At  once, 
I  mean.  In  a  real  hurry.  Could  you — "  with  some 
hesitation,  feeling  uncertain  as  to  how  she  would  take  it,  or 
rather  certain — "  could  you  marry  me — say  to-morrow  ?  " 

"  This  minute  if  you  like,"  she  said  heartily.  "  What  is  to 
prevent  it  ?  " — a  joyous  accession  to  his  wishes  that  fairly 
took  his  breath  away.  He  regarded  her  strangely.  In  such 
a  hurry  to  be  made  a  countess  !  But  as  he  looked  he  knew 
he  wronged  her,  and  that  not  so  much  as  one  mercenary  or 
ambitious  thought  dwelt  in  her  pretty,  loving  head. 

"  What,  indeed  !  "  he  said.  And  then  suddenly  he  burst 
out  laughing  ;  it  was  impossible  to  help  it.  Was  there  ever 
such  a  strange  wooing  ;  such  a  strange  child  ?  A  child  of 
seventeen.  The  people  of  his  world  would  laugh  if  he 
described  her  to  them.  She  had  laughed  1  His  brow 
darkened  as  he  remembered  that. 

"  Still  we  may  as  well  give  ourselves  time  to  look  about 
us,"  he  said,  "  and  arrange  our  affairs  and  put  them  in 
order ;  and  whether  we  like  it  or  not,"  with  another  smile, 
"  we  shall  have  to  wait  for  the  yacht  to  come  round  here 
before  we  can  start  on  our  voyage  round  the  world." 

"  Is  it  in  the  yacht  we  shall  go  ?  "  asked  she,  opening 
wide  her  delighted  eyes. 

"  Yes,  there  is  nothing  like  the  sea.  And  once  you  are 
accustomed  to  it,  and  have  had  time  to  forget  the  first  un- 
pleasant feeling,  you " 

"  Oh  !  I  know  all  about  it,"  interrupted  she  contemp- 
tuously, throwing  up  a  most  disdainful  face.  "  Did  you 
think  I  was  a  land  crab  entirely  ?  I  know  everything  about 
the  sea,  except,"  with  emphasis,  "  the  unpleasantness.  / 
am  never  sea-sick,"  with  a  glance  that  implied  her  belief 
that  he  was  sometimes,  or  else  he  could  not  know  so  much 
about  it.  "  The  rector  and  I  used  to  go  out  together  very 
often  last  autumn,  and  one  day,  when  there  was  a  terrible 
sea  on,  and  when  every  one,  even  the  sailors,  were  squea- 
mish a  bit,  and  the  poor  rector  was  quite  dreadfully  ill, 
I  ! "  proudly,  "  felt  nothing  but  the  grand  sweet  touch  of 
the  salt  spray  on  my  face,  as  the  water  washed  right  over 
me." 

"  That's  right.     Then  you  will  enjoy  yourself." 


MAKVEL.  71 

<  "  And  what  clothes  shall  I  take,  Fulke  ?  My  winter  ones, 
or  my  summer  ?  If  winter  I  shall  have  to  buy  some, 
because  I  have  nothing  warm,  that  is,"  with  a  sudden 
change  to  gravity,  "for  mourning.  Shall  we  be  going  to 
cold  places  or  to  hot  ones  ?  " 

"  Both,  in  all  probability ;  so  bring  all  you  can,  and  we 
can  buy  the  others  on  our  journey.  I  don't  myself  know 
where  we  are  bound  for.  We  shall  wander  away  out  into 
the  unknown  world,  like  two  outcasts,  anywhere,  every- 
where." 

"  It  is  like  a  fairy  tale,"  she  said  in  a  little  hushed  tone. 
"  Oh  dear,  darling  Fulke,  how  kind  of  you  to  take  me  with 
you.  And  where  shall  we  go  ?  " 

"  Wherever  our  fancy  guides  us." 

''  Our  ?  shall  I  have  a  choice  then  ?  " 

"  The  first,  if  you  wish  it ;  so  now  decide." 

"  Athens  ?  "  questioned  she,  with  an  eager  glance  at  him. 
"  Would  that  please  you  ?  I  have  all  my  life  so  longed  to 
see  Athens." 

"  Like  all  longings,"  said  he  slowly,  "  it  will  end  in  dis- 
appointment. The  Athens  of  your  dreams  is,  I  imagine, 
a  widely  different  thing  from  the  Athens  you  will  see  when 
broad  awake.  However,  one  must  be  disillusioned  sooner 
or  later.  Begin  with  Athens.  It  will  hurt  you  less,  believe 
me,  than  the  awakenings  farther  on  in  your  life's  voyage." 

"  You  speak  sadly,"  said  she.  "  I  shall  not  like  to  go  to 
Athens  if  you  don't.  Name  some  other  place." 

"  All  places  are  alike  to  me.  No,  Athens  let  it  remain. 
At  all  events  the  Mediterranean  will  not  disappoint  you. 
And  now  run  away.  There  is  much  to  be  done.  A  special 
licence  to  be  procured " 

"  What's  that  ?  "  said  she. 

"  Eh  ?  Oh  !  A  permit  from  her  Majesty  for  our  espou- 
sals ! "  She  did  not  see  he  was  laughing,  and  grew  quite 
solemn  over  the  thought  of  the  nuptials.  It  occurred  to 
her  en  passant,  that  the  Queen  must  have  a  busy  time  of  it 
if  she  had  to  give  leave  to  everybody  to  get  married.  "  You 
see  it  is  a  very  important  step  you  are  about  to  take,"  went 
on  Wriothesley,  whose  humour  this  morning  was  a  degree 
saturnine,  so  it  was  no  wonder  she  did  not  grasp  it.  "  I 


7»  MARVEL. 

have  to  wrte  an  order  to  the  skipper  to  bring  round  the* 
yacht  and  see  that  it  is  properly  victualled.  There  are 
several  ladies'  cabins  on  board  tolerably  comfortable,  so 
you  need  not  be  uneasy  about  that"  She  had  not  given  it 
a  thought.  "  There  will  be,  too,  a  word  to  the  rector,  a  little 
packing  I  suppose,  and  then,  hey !  for  your  dilapidated 
Athens." 

He  spoke  as  lightly  as  he  could.  His  brain  seemed 
burning.  She  ran  off  to  the  door  bent  on  obeying  him, 
though  she  would  have  dearly  liked  to  stay  with  him  and 
discuss  the  details  of  their  voyage,  bit  by  bit ;  but  when  she 
got  to  the  door  she  paused,  hesitated,  and  finally  came  back 
to  him,  very  slowly,  and  rubbing  her  forefinger  in  a  pretty 
embarrassed  fashion  across,  and  across  again,  her  rosy  lips : 

"  Fulke,"  she  said  shamefacedly,  not  daring  to  look  at 
him,  "  you — you  won't  change  your  mind  when  I  am  gone, 
will  you  ?  If "  She  came  to  a  dead  stop. 

"  I  shall  not  change  my  mind,"  said  he,  "  but  go  on ; 
what  was  that  '  if '  about  ?  " 

"  If  I  thought  you  would  I  should  stay  here,"  said  she 
naively. 

"  Be  happy.     I  sha'n't,"  said  he. 

She  went  once  more  towards  the  door,  and  having 
reached  it,  once  more  turned  back.  This  time  she  came 
quite  up  to  him,  and  slipped  her  cool  slender  fingers  into 
his. 

"Tell  me,"  she  said,  "do  husbands  ever  leave  their 
wives  ?  Can  they  ?  " 

Was  there  ever  so  perplexing  a  child.  Again  he  felt  that 
strong  inclination  to  laugh,  but  this  time  he  suppressed  it. 
She  was  looking  too  serious. 

"  Never  I "  he  said,  with  such  a  weight  of  positiveness  in 
his  tone  that  she  was  satisfied.  She  pondered  over  it, 
however,  for  a  moment  or  two,  and  then  made  a  little 
sound  of  perfect  content,  and  stirred  her  fingers  in  his  as 
if  to  remove  them  and  go ;  but  Wriothesley,  however, 
tightened  his  grasp  on  them,  and  so  detained  her. 

"  But,"  said  he,  "  wives  have  been  known  to  leave  their 
husbands ! " 

He  hardly  knew  why  he  said  this,  but  he  could  not 


MARVEL.  73 

resist  the  desire  to  see  how  she  would  look  when  she  heard 
it.  If  he  expected  an  indignant  disclaimer,  however,  he 
was  disappointed. 

"  Have  they  ?  Why  ?  "  demanded  she,  with  the  utmost 
astonishment,  but  quite  calmly,  accepting  what  he  had  just 
said  as  loyally  as  she  had  the  answer  before  it. 

"  Who  shall  say  ? "  returned  Wriothesley,  not  feeling 
equal  to  an  explanation,  and  therefore  carefully  avoiding 
it. 

"  Oh  !  it  is  too  foolish,"  said  she  at  last.  "  I'm  sure  you 
mean  what  you  say,  Fulke ;  but  I  think  somebody  has 
been  deceiving  you.  After  all  I  don't  believe  a  word  of  it. 
'Tis  a  story.  Just  fancy  my  leaving  you  1 " 


CHAPTER  XII. 

"Who  breathes  must  suffer,  and  who  thinks  must  mourn ; 
And  he  alone  is  bless'd  who  ne'er  was  born." 

MR.  BAINBRIDGE,  the  rector,  was  a  tall,  gaunt  old  man, 
much  stooped,  and  with  a  handsome  head,  which  was  plenti- 
fully sprinkled  with  grey  hair.  He  had  keen  eyes  and  a 
strong  mouth — a  trifle  stern,  and  he  walked  with  a  staff. 
He  was  older  even  than  he  looked,  and  he  had  served  his 
Master  faithfully  so  long  a  time  in  this  world  that  he 
believed  himself  to  be  standing  almost  on  the  brink  of  the 
next.  He  was  tall  and  strpng,  however,  in  body,  if  rather 
tired  in  soul  The  turmoils  of  life  had  wearied  him,  and 
the  loss  of  many  friends,  and  this  last  irreparable  loss — 
the  death  of  Lady  Mary,  who  had  been  more  to  him  than 
most,  had  given  him  an  ever-growing  desire  to  wing  his 
way  to  that  land  where  partings  are  unknown. 

As  Lord  Wriothesley  entered  the  cool  study  where  he 
sat  the  rector  looked  up  at  him  with  a  gaze  that  was  a  trifle 
prolonged. 

"  Home  again,"  he  said,  when  he  had  shaken  hands  with 
him.  "  I  believed  you  far  from  this,  and  was  pleased  to 
so  believe,  I  heard  yesterday  that  you  had  returned  to 


74  MARVEL. 

town,  and  I  thought  you  would  have  remained  there.  The 
monotony  of  this  calm  country  life  can  hardly  be  to  the 
taste  of  any  young  man." 

"You  are  thinking  about  Marvel,"  said  Wriothesley, 
simply,  brushing  aside  the  veil  the  elder  man  would  have 
held  before  his  real  meaning.  "So  am  I.  She  is  a 
question  that  has  vexed  me  for  many  a  day,  but  now  I 
think  I  have  found  an  answer  to  it.  I  am  going  abroad 
for  a  considerable  time,  and  I  am  going  to  marry  Marvel, 
and  take  her  with  me." 

Mr.  Bainbridge  made  no  immediate  reply.  He  leaned 
back  in  his  chair,  put  the  tips  of  his  fingers  together  with 
methodical  precision,  and  took  an  exhaustive  survey  of 
Wriothesley,  who  bore  the  studied  inspection  with  the  ut- 
most indifference.  Finally  he  said : 

"  You  really  mean  it,  then  ?  " 

"Certainly  I  mean  it.  I  was  never  more  in  earnest 
about  anything  in  my  life.  Why  should  you  doubt  it  ?  I 
have  spoken  to  Marvel,  and  she  has  agreed  to  throw  in  her 
lot  with  mine." 

There  was  no  touch  of  tenderness  in  either  tone  or 
words,  as  the  old  man,  who  was  a  keen  student  of  human 
nature,  noted. 

"  Marvel  is  but  a  baby,"  he  said. 

"  A  very  determined  one,  at  all  events.  She  made  up 
her  mind  yesterday  not  to  be  left  behind  when  I  started, 
and  you  see  she  has  carried  her  point."  He  laughed  as  if 
at  some  recollection  that  amused  him.  "  I  have  run  down 
to  you,"  he  went  on,  "  to  arrange  about  the  bell,  book  and 
candle  part  of  the  transaction.  A  special  licence  will  be 
necessary,  as  I  am  rather  in  a  hurry  to  quit  my  native  shores. 
Could  it  be  managed  by  Thursday  ?  " 

"What?     Your  going?" 

"  No.     My  marriage." 

He  spoke  in  a  careless  way  that  vexed  the  rector,  whose 
affection  for  Marvel  was  deep  and  genuine. 

"  Why  this  extraordinary  haste  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Well,  it  suits  me ; "  replied  Wriothesley,  as  if  further 
explanation  was  unnecessary.  He  did  not  notice  that  Mr. 
Bainbridge  was  growing  disturbed. 


MAKVEL.  75 

"  And  Marvel  ?  "  said  the  latter,  sharply.  "  Does  it  suit 
her  ?  " 

"Even  more  than  me."  He  turned  away  from  the 
window  here,  and  looked  straight  at  the  rector,  and  look- 
ing smiled.  "  Why,  my  dear  old  friend,  you  need  not  be 
uneasy  about  that,"  he  said.  "  I  assure  you  I  consulted  her." 

"  I  was  wrong  to  doubt  you.  You  were  always  a  kind 
lad,"  said  Mr.  Bainbridge  slowly ;  "  but  one  thing  I  must 
say  to  you,  WYiothesley — your  heart  is  not  in  this." 

"  There  you  are  at  fault.  My  heart  is  unquestionably  in 
it.  I  long,  like  the  veriest  schoolboy,  for  the  moment  in 
which  I  shall  set  sail." 

"  You  avoid  my  real  meaning.  You  heart  is  not  in  this 
marriage,  I  should  have  said." 

"  You  were  always  a  croaker,"  retorted  the  younger  man, 
with  affectionate  lightness  ;  "  but  all  your  evil  surmisings 
will  not  serve  you  here.  I  am  not  to  be  daunted  by  them. 
Do  you  know,"  dropping  into  a  more  confidential  tone, 
"  that  it  was  Lady  Mary's  wish,  and  I  myself  think  it  to  be 
the  best  way  of  settling  everything.  Marvel  has  no  home, 
no — name.  I  have  no  relations  to  call  me  to  account 
for  a  marriage  that  in  all  probability  would  be  called  by  the 
world  a  mesalliance — you  see  how  plainly  I  speak  to  you — 
or,  to  say  the  least  of  it,  a  trifle  rash.  I  have  looked 
everything  in  the  face,  have  weighed  everything,  and  I  te'l 
you  honestly,  I  have  no  fears  for  myself,  and  few  for 
her." 

"  I  would  you  had  more,"  said  the  rector. 

"You  think  I  do  wrong  in  this  matter,"  said  Wriothesley 
quickly. 

"  I  think  you  do  not  love  her.  Hear  me  patiently, 
Wriothesley  ;  'tis  an  old  man  that  speaks,  and  surely  I 
have  the  right  of  an  early  friendship  with  you  and  that 
good  woman,  that  saint  that  now  is — Lady  Mary — to  speak 
my  mind  freely,  and  warn  you  when  I  see  you  bent  on 
driving  your  life's  bark  upon  the  rocks.  Just  now  you  used 
the  word  homeless  with  regard  to  Marvel.  Do  not  marry 
her  because  you  dread  that  for  her.  A  home  awaits  her 
here.  I  am  an  old  man.  I  love  the  child.  I  would  gladly 
have  such  a  daughter  to  tend  my  declining  days.  At  my 


76  MARVEL. 

death  all  that  I  have  shall  be  hers — a  not  very  inconsider- 
able portion.  Do  not  therefore  sacrifice  her  youth  for  that 
reason." 

"You  speak  as  though  I  were  about  to  do  her  some 
mortal  injury,"  said  Wriothesley  hotly.  "  Nay,  speak  to  her 
then  ;  has  she,  do  you  think,  no  voice  in  this  decision  ?  " 

"That  she  loves  you  is  plain.  Who  runs  may  read  that 
simple  tale,"  said  the  old  man  calmly ;  "  but,  do  you  love 
her?"  ^ 

"Twice  you  have  asked  me  that  question.  Hear  my 
answer,  then  :  such  love  as  you  speak  of  is  not  mine  to  give. 
It  is  all  over,  gone  past  recalling." 

"  Dead  ?  "  asked  his  inquisitor. 

"  Not  dead.  Worse  than  that :  hopelessly  alive.  You 
see  I  am  honest  with  you."  He  had  grown  very  pale. 

"  But  not  with  her,  I  see.  And  this  love  you  speak  of. 
It  still  lives— eh  ?  " 

"Even  so,  it  cannot  harm  Marvel." 

"  There  is  another  woman  ?  " 

"  You  go  very  far,"  said  Wriothesley,  his  brow  darkening. 
He  bit  his  lips,  then  as  his  eyes  met  the  full,  clear,  beautiful 
eyes  of  the  old  man  his  anger  died  away  from  him  as  an 
unworthy  thing.  "  Say  what  you  will  to  me,"  he  said 
impetuously,  "  I  will  endure  it.  Yes,  there  is  another,  who 
spurned  this  love  about  which  you  so  cruelly  probe  me.  I 
offered  it  to  her,  full,  entire,  but  she  rejected  it  There  is, 
therefore,  as  I  said,  no  danger  for  Marvel." 

"  This  other  woman  may  change  her  mind,"  said  Mr. 
Bainbridge  slowly,  and  looking  at  the  handsome  high- 
bred face  before  him,  he  could  hardly  believe  that  any 
woman  born  could  be  unkind  to  the  owner  of  it,  "and 
then  ?  " 

"  She  will  not  do  that.  She — is  to  be  married  shortly. 
Her  marriage  is  arranged." 

He  turned  abruptly  away  and  stood  looking  out  into, 
but  not  seeing,  the  brilliant  little  garden  outside  that  was 
the  rector's  pride.  The  latter  remained  silent,  saddened  by 
the  younger  man's  story,  and  for  a  few  minutes  no  sound 
broke  the  soft  stillness  of  the  room.  Presently  Wriothesley 
spoke  again,  his  voice  harsh  and  strained. 


MARVEL.  77 

"  Now  you  know  all,  and  that  I  am  over  and  done  with 
such  follies  for  ever." 

"  You  are  too  young  a  man  to  speak  like  that.  Some 
day  your  love  will  wake  again ;  and  how  if  it  should  not 
awaken  for  your  wife  ?  " 

"  Hah  !  old  Raven !  what  would  you  say  more  ?  "  cried 
Wriothesley,  catching  him  by  both  arms  and  laughing 
grimly  into  his  face.  "  Why  not  prognosticate  rather  that 
some  day  it  will  awaken  for  my  wife  ?  " 

"  Because  I  have  lived  long,  too  long,"  said  the  old 
man  sadly,  "  and  I  have  learned  in  my  dreary  pilgrimage 
that  no  man  wakens  to  love  for  the  thing  he  has — a  woman 
might,  a  man  never  !  " 

"  You  have  forgotten  one  thing — that  there  are  excep- 
tions to  all  rules.  Let  my  case  be  one,  or  rather  believe, 
what  is  indeed  the  most  likely  thing,  that  I  have  done 
with  that  foolish  fever  called  love,  and  that  I  shall  be  faith- 
ful to  Marvel  for  ever.  Come,  trust  me.  I  shall  be  her 
friend  always." 

"  Her  husband  you  mean,"  drily.  "  Well,  as  you  have 
so  arranged  it  between  you,  so  let  it  be.  Providence 
ordains  all  things,  and  who  am  I,  that  I  should  dare  to  step 
in  and  seek  to  turn  aside  this  brilliant  destiny  you  offer 
her.  Yet,  one  last  word."  He  drew  nearer,  and  laid  his 
thin  right  hand  upon  Wriothesley's  shoulder.  "  Remember, 
she  is  as  ignorant  of  all  things  evil  as  a  child  should  be. 
Guard  her,  cherish  her.  The  sin,  the  sorrow,  the  suffer- 
ing of  the  world  are  alike  unknown  to  her.  You  are  taking 
a  pure  sweet  soul  into  your  keeping,  Wriothesley ;  see  that 
you  preserve  it  so." 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

"  Love  !    I  will  tell  thee  what  it  is  to  love  ! 

It  is  to  build  with  human  thoughts  a  shiine, 
Where  hope  sits  brooding  like  a  beauteous  dove — 
Where  life  seems  young,  and  like  a  thing  divine." 

As  for  Marvel,  she  was  intensely  happy  during  those  few 
days  before  her  marriage.     She  was  enchanted  with  every 


78  MARVEL. 

arrangement  made  for  the  strange  voyage,  and  ran  hither 
and  thither  doing  needless  little  messages  for  Wriothesley, 
whom  she  drove  to  the  verge  of  irritability  twenty  times  a 
day. 

She  laughed  for  almost  the  first  time  since  her  auntie's 
death,  and  chattered  incessantly.  Of  course  somebody 
shou'.d  be  told  the  glad  news  that  she  was  not  to  be  lonely 
any  more,  and  that  she  was  to  go  away  with  Lord 
Wriothesley  in  the  pretty  white-winged  yacht.  First  she 
ran  down  to  the  Rectory.  It  was  after  Wriothesley's  visit 
there,  and  she  was  so  full  of  her  own  story  that  she  hardly 
noticed  how  gravely  her  old  friend  listened  and  how  few 
raptures  he  displayed.  Then  she  told  her  nurse,  and  soon 
all  the  servants  knew  it.  Extreme  was  their  astonishment. 
Yet  it  was  a  proof  of  the  sweetness  of  her  nature  that  no 
one  grudged  her  her  luck,  so  greatly  had  she  endeared 
herself  to  them  all  during  her  young  life  at  The  Towers. 

Then  came  the  wedding  morning.  She  rose  early  and 
went  for  a  solitary  wander  through  the  gardens  and  those 
parts  of  the  ground  that  had  grown  more  especially  dear 
through  fond  associations.  The  clear  ringing  of  a  bell 
within  the  house  warned  her  that  time  was  flying,  so  with 
many  a  farewell  glance  and  sigh,  and  not  without  a  few 
tears,  she  returned  to  her  room. 

There  breakfast  was  served  to  her,  and  there  she  dressed 
herself  in  one  of  the  simple  white  gowns  her  auntie  had  so 
loved.  After  a  long,  long  hesitation  she  decided  on  put- 
ting aside  even  the  black  sash  for  this  one  day  and  wearing 
a  white  one.  A  faint  recollection  of  having  been  told  many 
years  ago  that  white  in  some  countries  was  mourning 
returned  to  her  and  gave  her  some  little  consolation,  but 
in  spite  of  all  that,  the  discarding  of  the  black  sash  troubled 
her. 

Her  mind  was  full  of  Lady  Mary  on  this  her  marriage 
day.  In  some  strange  occult  way  she  seemed  to  be  very 
near  to  her.  When  her  toilette  was  quite  completed  she 
dismissed  her  maid  and  knelt  down  before  a  tall  oaken 
chair  and  prayed  fervently  for  a  little  while — that  Fulke 
might  be  happy  always — and  she  too — and  good — and  that 
he  might  always  love  her. 


MAKVEL.  79 

Tears  trembled  on  her  long  lashes  as  she  finished  her 
earnest  supplication,  though  she  was  neither  nervous  nor 
distrustful,  and  it  appeared  to  her  as  if  her  auntie  were 
waiting  close  beside  her  to  carry  her  simple  prayer  to 
Heaven. 

In  the  hall  Fulke  met  her.  She  smiled  at  him  and  gave 
him  her  hand ;  and  he — who  was  accustomed  to  her 
impetuous  actions — felt  some  surprise  as  she  made  no 
movement  to  offer  him  the  customary  morning  kiss.  Per- 
haps she  forgot  it.  Certainly  it  was  no  new  shyness, 
because  it  did  not  occur  to  her  to  be  shy. 

Together  they  walked  through  the  glowing  woods  to 
the  private  chapel,  whither  Mrs.  Bunch,  the  housekeeper, 
in  her  "  best  bib  and  tucker,"  had  gone  on  before,  that 
Marvel  should  not  find  herself  without  one  of  her  own  sex 
to  support  her  there — "  and  that  upon  her  weddin'-mornin' 
too — pore  dear  little  pretty  !  " 

Mr.  Bainbridge,  in  full  canonicals,  met  the  bride  and 
bridegroom  at  the  church-porch.  It  was  most  irregular, 
and  scarcely  orthodox  ;  but  he  was  so  uneasy  about  Marvel 
that  he  could  not  refrain  from  getting  a  glimpse  of  her 
before  the  commencement  of  the  ceremony.  He  felt  in  a 
measure  conscience-stricken.  Had  he  done  his  duty  ? 
Should  he  not  have  put  forth  all  his  power  to  prevent 
this  marriage  that  instinct  warned  him  would  not  be  for 
her  good  ?  Yet,  when  he  saw  her  clad  all  in  her  bridal 
white,  and  when  she  raised  her  head  and  showed  the  sweet, 
unworldly,  peaceful  smile  upon  her  lips,  his  fears  and 
his  remorse  alike  vanished;  and  it  was  in  a  clear  and 
hopeful  tone  that  he  presently  read  the  marriage-service. 

Mrs.  Bunch,  in  the  family  pew,  shed  many  tears  behind 
her  lavender  cotton  gloves,  and  all  the  maids  who  had 
gained  permission  to  attend  sniffed  audibly.  Wriothesley 
himself  looked  pale,  and  there  was  a  strange  unnatural 
gleam  in  his  eyes;  but  Marvel  stood  calm  and  earnest, 
making  the  responses  in  a  soft  distinct  voice  and  listening 
to  all  that  the  rector  said  with  an  air  of  solemnity  and  awe, 
not  doubting  or  fearing,  but  simply,  as  one  learning  he* 
duty. 

In   the    vestry  room    she   signed    her   name,   "  Marvel 


So  MARVEL. 

Craven,"  in  her  firm  beautiful  handwriting,  and  afterwards 
she  kissed  the  rector  and  then  her  husband. 

"  God  bless  you  !  "  said  Mr.  Bain  bridge  fervently.  He 
appeared  agitated,  and  wrung  Wriothesley's  hand,  whisper- 
ing to  him  in  a  low  tone  to  "  Be  good  to  her  " — not  so  low 
however  but  that  Marvel  heard  it ;  and  she  laughed  gaily, 
and,  patting  his  arm,  asked  him  if  he  thought  Fulke  was 
an  ogre. 

Then  Wriothesley  asked  the  old  man  to  return  with 
them  to  The  Towers,  but  he  excused  himself;  and  indeed 
little  time  was  left  to  the  bride  and  bridegroom  to  linger 
over  breakfast,  as  they  were  to  go  on  board  the  yacht  early 
in  the  afternoon,  and  there  were  yet  those  usual  terrible 
last  things  to  be  seen  to. 

So  Marvel  and  he  went  back  alone  to  the  house,  walking 
through  the  woods  as  they  had  come,  and  into  the  hall, 
where  Mrs.  Bunch  and  most  of  the  servants,  men  and 
women,  were  assembled  to  greet  them. 

"  I  wish  you  joy,  my  lady,"  said  Mrs.  Bunch,  coming 
a  little  forward  and  dropping  a  low  respectful  courtesy. 

"  Eh  ?  "  said  Marvel  softly,  as  if  not  understanding;  and 
then — "  '  My  lady  ! '  How  strange  it  sounds  !  "  She 
laughed  rather  nervously,  and  then  tears  came  into  her 
eyes.  That  had  been  her  auntie's  name !  "  Thank  you," 
she  said  sweetly  to  good  old  Mrs.  Bunch,  who  loved  her 
and  comprehended  that  last  thought — as  indeed  did  all 
the  servants.  She  placed  both  hands  on  the  old  woman's 
shoulders,  and  bent  to  her  and  pressed  her  fresh  young 

cheek  to  the  withered  old  face. 

****** 

They  were  standing  in  the  library,  almost  ready  to  start, 
when  Wriothesley  noticed  the  locket  that  Marvel  wore 
round  her  neck.  It  was  the  same  old  battered  ornament 
she  had  had  on  her  on  the  night  she  had  been  rescued 
by  him  from  the  storm. 

"  How  many  years  it  is  since  I  saw  that,"  he  said, 
touching  it ;  "  and  what  a  mite  you  were  then !  You 
remember  ?  " 

"  I  remember  that  you  saved  me.  Auntie  told  me 
always  to  keep  this  locket,  as  it  might  help  me  to  find — to 


MARVEL.  8 1 

trace  some  one  belonging  to  me.  You  know  I  have  neither 
father,  brother,  nor  sister,"  she  said  simply.  "  I  have 
indeed  no  one — no  one  " — in  a  low  tone — "  but  you  !  " 

"  Well,  I  shall  be  father  and  brother  to  you,"  he  said 
kindly.  He  thanked  Heaven  she  did  not  ask  for  his  love. 
That  would  have  meant  a  thorough  explanation,  and 
one  that  now  would  be  of  no  avail 

He  felt  as  though  he  were  in  a  dream,  standing  there 
with  the  girl — little  more  than  a  child — beside  him,  who  in 
reality  was  his  wife.  For  a  moment  he  was  almost  over- 
come by  a  horrible  longing  to  undo  it  all — to  escape  from 
her — to  be  free  once  more ;  but  it  was  too  late  !  He  drew 
a  deep  breath,  and  compelled  himself  to  return  to  the 
listless  indifferent  tone  and  manner  which  he  had  adopted 
ever  since  he  had  arranged  his  marriage.  He  despised 
himself  for  his  new  mood.  He  doubly  despised  himself 
for  the  thought  that  had  sprung  to  life  with  her  last  words, 
that  he  had  indeed  given  the  good  old  name  to  a  woman 
who  was  herself  nameless ! 

It  was  still  in  the  white  gown  that  Marvel  went  on  board 
the  yacht.  She  had  elected  to  wear  it  all  through  this 
day,  and  then  to  set  it  apart  and  keep  it  ever  sacred,  as  her 
wedding-gown.  So  much  she  thought  about  her  marriage, 
but  little  more.  The  real  thing  was  that  she  was  going 
to  sail  away,  away,  away  with  Fulke  to  summer  seas  and 
sunny  lands. 

She  found  her  own  cabin  an  exquisite  little  affair,  and 
that  for  her  maid  was  scarcely  less  so.  The  captain,  a  bluff 
old  sailor,  received  her  as  though  she  were  a  slim  little 
princess,  and  before  the  sun  sank  behind  the  hills  of 
her  old  home,  up  went  the  anchor,  and  with  many  a 
musical  yo-ho  the  "  Merry  Maid "  bent  to  the  evening 
bieeze  and  faded  away  into  the  gathering  mist  like  a 
winged  spirit* 


MABVEU 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

"  That  some  weighty  grief 
O'erhangs  thy  soul,  thy  ev'ry  look  proclaims  : 
Why  then  refuse  it  words  ?  " 

IT  was  a  charming  morning,  bright  with  sunshine,  as 
they  sighted  Gibraltar.  The  world  was  three  weeks  older 
then  than  on  that  eventful  day  when  Marvel  for  the 
first  time  possessed  a  name.  It  had  been  a  three  weeks  of 
unalloyed  enjoyment  to  her,  not  a  shadow  having  darkened 
the  days  that  sped  all  too  swiftly.  She  was  with  Fulke, 
and  she  was  happy.  Not  that  she  saw  much  of  him, 
but  she  was  quite  content  with  the  knowledge  that  he  was 
somewhere  near,  and  she  had  early  learned  that  she  was 
not  to  be  a  "trouble  to  him,"  which  meant  that  she 
was  not  to  break  in  upon  his  moods  when  he  appeared 
silent  and  distrait.  And  this  was  often. 

Each  day  found  him  more  self-contained,  and,  if 
disturbed,  more  irritable.  At  first  he  had  conscientiously 
done  his  best  to  make  her  comfortable  on  board  the  yacht, 
and  to  entertain  her  :  he  treated  her  always  as  an 
honoured  guest.  And  there  were  days  of  delicious  sight 
seeing  for  her  who  had  never  until  then  seen  anything 
but  an  English  village,  when  they  had  stopped  here  and 
there  on  their  way,  putting  into  certain  ports  and 
"  doing  "  such  sights  as  were  to  be  seen.  At  each  place  he 
loaded  her  with  trinkets,  or  bric-ci-brac  of  the  choicest 
kinds,  and  she,  like  a  delighted  child,  forgot,  or  did  not 
notice,  that  the  enjoyment  was  all  on  her  side. 

At  Gibraltar  they  expected  to  receive  any  letters  or 
papers  that  might  be  forwarded  to  them,  and  Wriothesley 
for  two  days  before  they  reached  it  could  hardly  restrain 
the  cruel  impatience  with  which  he  looked  forward  to 
the  news  that  the  society  journals  especially  might  contain. 
He  could  see  the  paragraphs  describing  how  Leonie  looked 
as  a  bride,  each  dainty  detail  of  her  wedding  gown,  the 
list  of  guests,  the  false  flattering  mention  of  the  ancient 
groom. 


MAEVEL.  83 

It  was  all  terrible  to  him,  and  the  constant  strain,  the 
perpetual  dwelling  on  the  one  subject,  injured  him  both 
in  mind  and  body.  He  grew  pale  and  thin,  filled  as 
he  was  with  an  undying  love  for  one  woman  and  an 
undying  remorse  for  that  love  when  he  remembered  another, 
until  at  last  the  pretty  laughing  presence  of  Marvel  grew 
insupportable  to  him. 

Instinctively  she  felt  this,  but  so  vaguely  that  it  hardly 
rendered  her  uneasy ;  but  a  desire  to  do  something  that 
should  please  him,  that  should  win  her  a  smile,  incited  her 
to  be  the  first  to  receive  the  post  when  it  arrived  and 
to  carry  it  herself  to  him. 

Wriothesley,  who  happened  to  be  engaged  at  the 
moment,  seeing  her  enter  with  a  large  packet  and  several 
letters  and  papers,  changed  colour  and  went  quickly  to  her 
with  eagerly-extended  hands.  She  gave  him  what  she 
brought,  looking  shyly  at  him  for  a  word  of  thanks,  but 
none  came.  One  last  paper  remained  in  her  grasp. 

"  Here,"  she  said  playfully,  holding  it  out,  "  and  how 
much  for  this,  my  lord  ?  " 

But  he  did  not  hear  her,  did  not  even  see  her.  He  had 
turned  aside,  and  flinging  himself  into  a  chair  had  torn  the 
wrapper  from  the  paper  she  had  last  given  him.  It  was 
the  one  he  had  been  waiting  for  so  long. 

Marvel  turned  away  with  a  sense  of  having  been 
forgotten,  and  with  a  heightened  colour.  She  was  only 
a  child  at  heart,  and  she  was  in  a  degree  offended.  He 
might  have  thanked  her,  she  thought,  for  being  the  one  to 
bring  him  that  post  for  which  he  had  so  wearied  !  But  he 
had  thought  of  nothing  but  that  stupid  paper.  She  hoped 
she  should  never  see  a  number  of  it  again.  She  should 
recollect  always  the  colour  of  its  cover.. 

Meantime,  Wriothesley  with  a  rapid  hand  turned  the 
pages.  Here,  there,  he  looked  for  the  dreaded  announce- 
ment, but  as  yet  saw  nothing.  The  small  society  paragraphs 
gave  no  mention  of  any  fashionable  wedding  in  which  her 
name  stood  prominent.  He  had  drawn  a  breath  of  curious 
relief  and  had  just  turned  a  fresh  page  half-carelessly  when 
a  heading  in  large  letters  caught  his  eye : 

"  Sudden  death  of  the  Duke  of  Dawtry." 

6—2 


84  MARVEL. 

He  read  it  three  or  four  times,  and  having  mastered  it 
(rather  a  trouble  to  him,  because  of  the  shock  to  his  brain) 
he  went  quietly  on  with  the  rest  of  the  article.  Only  a  few 
words  of  it  clung  to  him.  On  the  eve  of  his  marriage  !  On 
the  eve  !  She  had  not  married  him  then i  And  now  she 
was  free  !  Free  !  He  half-started  from  his  seat,  forgetting 
all  things  but  that,  and  that  he  must  go  to  her.  Then 
memory  returned  in  its  full  power;  Marvel's  face  stood  out 
before  him,  and  with  a  groan  he  sank  back  again,  and  lean- 
ing his  arms  upon  the  table  let  his  head  fall  forwards  on 
them. 

It  was  thus  that  Marvel  found  him  an  hour  later.  She- 
had  repented  her  short-lived  anger,  and  in  a  sweet,  peni- 
tent mood  had  come  back  to  him.  She  saw  at  a  glance  that 
it  was  the  paper  she  had  given  him  that  was  lying  open 
on  the  table  before  him.  Something  in  his  attitude,  that 
had  a  good  deal  to  do  with  despair,  frightened  her  and  she 
came  quickly  to  his  side. 

"  Fulke,  what  is  it  ?  "  she  asked  nervously,  laying  her 
hand  upon  his  shoulder.  He  started  and  looked  up,  with- 
drawing sharply  from  her  touch  as  he  did  so,  and  she  saw 
that  his  face  was  ghastly. 

"Nothing,"  he  said.  "I  beg  you  will  not  worry  me 
now.  It  is  nothing." 

"  Do  not  speak  to  me  like  that,"  she  entreated  trembling. 
"  Tell  me  your  trouble — let  mt  try  to  comfort  you." 

He  pushed  back  his  chair  and  rose  to  his  feet.  There 
was  a  terrible  expression  in  his  eyes  as  they  rested  on  her. 

"  You  I "  he  said.  "  You,  to  comfort  me  !  You,  who 
have  been  my  undoing !  Go,  I  tell  you.  Leave  me.  I 
must  be  alone." 

"You  mean ?"  she  said.     She  was  trembling  from 

head  to  foot.     His  manner  was  so  strange,  so  wild,  that  she 
was  quite  unnerved.     "  Fulke,  speak  to  me." 

"  What  have  I  to  say  ?  What  have  you  to  hear  ? 
Except — that  I  would  I  had  never  seen  you."  There  was 
the  bitter  savagery  of  truth  in  his  tone.  He  had  lost  all 
control  over  himself,  but  when  he  had  dealt  the  death-blow 
he  felt  sobered.  "  There — forgive  me,  I  hardly  know  what 
I  say.  I  told  you  to  go,"  he  said,  and  then  he  waited, 


MARVEL.  85 

knowing,  yet  hardly  caring  for  her  pain,  so  great  was  his 
own. 

She  paused  for  a  moment  as  if  turned  into  stone,  and 
then  went  softly  out  of  the  saloon. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

"  Before  our  lives  divide  for  ever, 
While  time  is  with  us 


M  Time,  swift  to  fasten  and  swift  to  sever 
Hand  from  hand,  as  we  stand  by  the  sea." 

SHE  felt  stunned,  terrified.  She  crept  slowly  up  the  stairs 
to  the  deck  where  the  salt  breeze  blew  upon  her  face,  and 
in  a  strange,  vague  way  created  in  her  a  desire  for  tears. 
But  she  repressed  them,  and  seeing  a  wicker  chair  on  her  , 
right  hand,  went  to  it  and  sank  down  wearily  amongst  the 
cushions. 

Her  hands  fell  listlessly  upon  her  lap,  and  she  stared  out 
seaward  with  hot  strained  eyes,  to  see  nothing  but  a  limitless 
ocean  all  around  her  and  above  a  cloudless  sky.  For  the 
first  time  the  exquisite  smiling  beauty  of  nature  seemed  to 
her  repellant.  Oh,  for  clouds,  for  rain,  for  tempest !  for 
anything  save  this  heartless  brilliance. 

How  had  she  offended  him  that  he  should  look  at  her 
like  that?  What  fault  committed  that  he  should  say  those 
dreadful  words.  He  had  said  she  was  his  "  undoing ! " 
There  was  something  surely,  and  it  was  in  that  paper,  the 
paper  she  had  given  him  last.  Oh,  how  unfortunate  she 
was,  that  hers  should  have  been  the  hand  to  deal  him  a 
fatal  wound.  She  knew  instinctively  that  he  was  hurt  past 
healing,  but — what  was  it? 

She  had  never  thought  very  seriously  of  her  marriage.  It 
had  been  to  her  only  a  delightful,  a  very  lucky  arrangement 
that  had  enabled  her  to  go  with  him  wheresoever  he  went, 
as  it  seemed  she  could  not  have  done  unless  those  few 
solemn  words  had  been  read  over  them  by  the  rector.  But 


86  MAEVEL. 

now,  to-day,  as  she  sat  there  in  sore  distress  there  came  to 
her  the  knowledge  that  marriage  with  her  meant  that  he 
could  not  marry  another,  and,  perhaps,  there — was — another 
— some  one  who 

She  felt  as  though  she  were  suffocated.  She  grew  very 
pale,  and  her  fingers  began  to  pluck  nervously  at  her  gown. 
If  that  was  it — if  she  was  in  his  way  !  The  choking  sensa- 
tion rose  stHl  higher  in  her  throat,  and  instinctively  she  put 
up  one  slender  hand  to  it.  Surely,  surely  there  must  be 
some  way  of  undoing  a  marriage  such  as  hers;  loveless, 
undesired,  nay,  now  detested !  It  should  be  done.  Why, 
what  was  it  after  all  ?  a  few  words,  no  more  ! 

She  would  go  to  Fulke  and  passionately  appeal  to  him. 
She  would  let  him  at  once  know  he  should  be  free,  free  as 
air  to — go  to  that  other.  She  rose  hurriedly,  and  then  as 
suddenly  reseated  herself.  No;  it  would  not  do  to  go 
now.  He  would  think  she  was  hurt,  or  angry,  or  offended. 
She  would  let  a  day  or  two  go  by,  so  that  he  should  not 
guess  all  that  was  in  her  heart,  and  then  she  would  entreat 
him  to  let  her  return  home,  to  annul  this  marriage  that 
was  so  distasteful  to  him.  It  was  her  first  little  bit  of  dis- 
simulation, and  somehow  it  hurt  her. 

But  how  if  it  could  not  be  undone !  This  thought  was 
terrible  to  her.  It  must ;  it  should !  And  at  all  events, 
there  was  one  thing  positive,  she  would  not  stay  with  him 
now  she  had  grown  hateful  to  him.  She  would  not  wait 
to  see  again  that  look  that  had  darkened  his  face  to-day. 
She  could  not.  She  assured  herself  that  it  would  kill  her. 

She  was  trembling  all  over  now  and  feeling  really  ill. 
The  captain  had  placed  a  shawl  around  her  a  while  ago, 
because  there  was  a  sharp  wind  blowing,  that  carried  a 
little  chill  with  it,  and  one  of  the  sailors  had  silently  pushed 
a  footstool  beneath  her  feet.  They  were  all  devoted  to  her, 
from  the  captain  down  to  the  cabin  boy,  and  ready  at  any 
moment  to  do  her  loyal  service. 

She  was  so  young,  so  merry,  so  joyous.  She  would  run 
about  amongst  them  all  day,  like  an  overgrown  child, 
talking  to  them  as  if  they  were  her  eq'uals,  though  yet  with 
a  certain  sweet  dignity  that  commanded  their  admiration. 
She  found  out  all  about  the  men  from  themselves ;  as  to 


MAKVEL.  87 

who  were  married  and  how  many  little  children  they  had 
awaiting  them  at  home,  and  she  knew  too  of  the  sweethearts, 
and  what  each  lad  was  going  to  bring  his  lass  from  foreign 
parts.  And  there  wasn't  a  man  amongst  them  who  didn't 
follow  her  every  movement  on  board  the  "  Merry  Maid"  with 
a  sense  of  honest  pleasure  and  a  simple  worship  of  her. 

To-day  they  saw  that  "  some'at  ailed  my  lady."  And, 
indeed,  her  poor  little  ladyship  looked  sad  enough  to  pro- 
voke sympathy  in  even  the  hardest  heart. 

-^      "What  a  rich  feast  the  canker  grief  has  made  ; 
How  has  it  sucked  the  roses  of  thy  cheeks  1 
And  drunk  the  liquid  crystal  of  thy  eyes." 

When  the  tears  rose  to  her  eyes,  however,  she  blinked 
them  back  again.  No,  she  would  not  cry ;  such  misery  as 
hers  was  not  to  be  consoled  by  a  few  drops)  wrung  from 
her  heart.  Tears  could  not  ease  her.  And  then  all  sud- 
denly anger  grew  within  her  gentle  breast,  and  she  told 
herself  it  was  unjust,  unfair.  Because  sorrow  had  come  to 
him  was  no  reason  why  he  should  look  at  her  as  if — as 
though — he — loathed  her  !  Oh,  yes,  that  was  the  word. 
The  very  sight  of  her  had  grown  hideous  to  him.  It  was  a 
shame — a  shame  ! 

Then  all  at  once  her  anger  died  from  her.  No,  no ;  it 
was  all  her  own  fault. 

She  had  asked  him  to  take  her  with  him,  and  out  of  the 
goodness  of  his  heart  he  had  not  found  it  possible  to  refuse; 
and  now  he  was  wretched — and  it  was  all  her  fault.  She — 
who  loved  him,  had  made  him  so.  Oh !  if  her  auntie  had 
but  lived. 

She  went  down  to  her  cabin  and  threw  herself  on  her 
bed,  and  cried  herself  into  a  severe  headache. 

It  was  a  long  day.  Very  slowly  the  early  autumn  shadows 
crept  across  the  sea  and  evening  descended.  She  had 
refused  any  luncheon  from  her  maid,  and  when  at  the 
usual  dinner-hour  Wriothesley  himself  knocked  at  her  door, 
although  she  sprang  into  a  sitting  posture  and  the  nervous 
colour  flamed  into  her  cheeks,  she  still  said  "No"  to  his 
inquiry,  called  from  outside,  whether  she  would  not  dine 
with  him. 


Kg  MARVEL, 

"  Shall  I  send  you  in  something  ?" 

"No,  thank  you,  nothing."  There  was  a  note  of  remorse 
in  his  tone  that  brought  on  her  tears  afresh,  but  she  felt 
comfort  in  the  knowledge  that  they  were  hidden  from 
him. 

"I  am  so  sorry  you  have  a  headache.  Do  try  to  eat 
something,  it  will  do  you  more  good  than  anything,"  he 
still  entreated  her,  and  when  she  again  declined  he  said, 
with  some  slight  authority  of  tone  : 

"  Come  here  to  the  door,  Marvel ;  I  want  to  see  you." 

Accustomed  to  obey,  she  got  up,  gave  a  hasty  glance  into 
her  mirror,  brushed  back  her  lovely  wavy  hair,  and  seeing 
that  she  was  pale,  but  not  exactly  repulsive  because  of  her 
weeping,  went  reluctantly  to  the  door.  It  was  not  locked, 
but  it  not  being  his  custom  to  do  so,  Wriothesley  had  not 
entered  the  room. 

When  he  saw  her  standing  there,  so  pale  and  unhappy, 
his  heart  smote  him.  Was  this  Lady  Mary's  merry  child  ? 
He  could  not  call  to  mind  the  words  he  had  spoken  in  his 
anguish,  but  he  supposed  they  had  been  sufficiently  hasty 
to  hurt  her.  He  did  not  dream  they  had  been  so  cruel  as 
they  were. 

"  I  have  been  unkind  to  you,  Marvel,"  he  said  remorse- 
fully. "  But  a  hasty  word  or  two  you  should  not  take  so 
much  to  heart." 

She  regarded  him  in  a  sort  of  wonderment.  "You — who 
have  been  my  undoing  1"  "  I  would  I  had  never  seen  you  ! " 
Were  these  mere  hasty  words  ?  Truly,  he  did  not  love  her 
if  he  could  think  so. 

"  Do  not  be  distressed  about  it,"  she  said  sweetly ; 
"after  a  while  I  shall  not  care  much — not  much.  And 
besides,"  hastily,  "I  believe  it  is  this  tiresome  headache 
that  is  troubling  me  most." 

"Try  some  champagne.  That  may  set  you  up  again. 
Let  me  bring  you  some  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no,  thank  you." 

"  I  wish  you  would.  You  look  very  pale,  and  it  would 
make  me  feel  easier  about  you." 

"  Would  it  ?  "  She  was  thoughtful  for  a  moment,  and 
then,  with  thorough  unselfishness,  "Very  well,  you  may 


MAEVEL.  89 

bring  me  some."  Why  should  she  make  him  uneasy? 
She  had  surely  been  trouble  enough  to  him  already.  Ay ! 
and  grief,  too.  Her  heart  swelled  with  misery  within  her 
as  she  thought  of  it  all ;  but  his  new  kindliness  did  not  for 
an  instant  shake  her  determination  to  rid  him  of  her 
presence  as  soon  as  it  should  be  possible. 

She  took  the  wine  from  him  when  he  brought  it,  but  she 
did  not  drink  it,  and  she  still  persisted  in  her  refusal  to  go 
to  dinner,  and  Wriothesley  departed  a  little  puzzled  by  some 
subtle  change  in  her  that  had  been  born  within  the  last  few 
hours.  He  consoled  himself  with  the  thought  that  a  child 
like  that  only  wanted  a  good  night's  rest  to  forget  even  a 
poignant  grief,  and  at  heart  indeed  he  was  considerably 
relieved  at  her  persistent  disinclination  to  dine  with  him. 

In  his  present  mood  he  shrank  from  a  tete-d-tete  with 
her.  He  had  roused  himself  from  his  stupor  to  speak  to 
her,  a  sense  of  duty  driving  him  to  make  amends  for  those 
angry  words  he  half  recollected  having  spoken.  But  he 
was  glad  to  be  able  to  go  back  again  to  his  miserable  regrets 
without  any  one  to  study  him  with  large  clear  child-like  eyes. 
His  mind  was  unsettled ;  yesterday  he  knew  that  his  idol 
was  still  loved  by  him  with  a  deep  but  unpardoning  love ; 
to-day  there  was  no  thought  of  pardon,  only  a  wild  longing 
to  reach  her,  to  kneel  at  her  feet,  to  implore  her  grace  once 
more ;  and  with  this  the  knowledge  that  he  was  powerless 
to  stir ! 

And  something  more,  too!  A  cold,  curious  sense  of 
revenge  gratified  1 


CHAPTER  XVI. 
Sick  in  the  world's  regard,  wretched  and  low.* 

THE  next  day  she  found  the  paper  and  deliberately  searched 
it.  She  felt  no  dishonour  attached  itself  to  her  for  thus 
endeavouring  to  fathom  his  secret ;  she  meant  only  to  know 
for  certain  this  thing  that  stood  between  him  and  her.  She 
would  make  no  mistake ;  she  would  try  fully  to  understand 


90  MARVEL. 

everything,  that  afterwards  she  might  be  assured  that  she 
had  done  him  no  wrong  in  act  or  thought  by  leaving 
him. 

The  paper  was  considerably  crumpled  on  one  page,  as 
though  a  hand  had  involuntarily  clutched  it,  and  this  she  felt 
was  where  the  mystery  lay.  She  scanned  the  page  hurriedly, 
and  the  large  startling  print  of  the  first  heading  entered  into 
her  :  "  Sudden  death  of  the  Duke  of  Dawtry."  She  read 
and  re-read  it,  in  silent  wonderment,  and  then  the  paragraph 
beneath.  But  Mrs.  Scarlett's  name  was  not  mentioned 
there,  and  she  scarcely  knew  what  to  think  when  she  had 
come  to  the  end  of  it.  She  knew  this,  however,  that  the 
reading  of  that  article  had  caused  him  to  look  at  her  with 
eyes  full  of  hatred,  and  in  a  sorrowful  silent  way  she  began 
to  ponder  on  the  best  way  of  removing  herself  for  ever  from 
his  sight. 

All  through  the  week  she  sought  for  some  excuse  to  offer 
him,  but  none  came,  and  at  last  she  determined  upon 
telling  him  that  she  wished  to  return  home.  This  was 
partly  the  truth,  though  to  return  to  the  old  home,  to  her 
beloved  Towers,  was  more,  she  thought,  than  she  could 
endure.  And  if  the  marriage  could  be  set  aside,  as  she 
hoped  and  believed  with  a  passionate  misery  that  it  could 
be,  he  would  be  the  last  to  wish  her  there. 

At  length,  one  day  towards  evening,  she  summoned  all 
her  courage  to  her  aid,  and  went  to  where  he  was,  and 
standing  at  some  little  distance  from  him  with  folded  hands 
tightly  clasped,  said  tremulously  : 

"  Fulke,  may  I  go  home  ?  " 

"  What  ? "  he  said,  thoroughly  amazed.  His  face 
changed,  and  he  regarded  her  with  a  searching  scrutiny. 
"  What  is  it  you  want  ?  " 

"  To  go  home,"  she  repeated,  with  a  slight  increase  of 
nervousness  this  time. 

He  said  nothing  for  a  minute  or  two,  spent  principally 
in  thinking  out  her  words,  and  then  with  a  half  smile  : 

"  Tired  of  it  so  soon  ?  " 

"Yes,  I  am  tired,"  she  said  in  a  low  voice.  Her  head 
was  bent,  and  she  was  running  her  werlding-ring  round  and 
round  her  finger  in  a  little  sad,  aimLas  way.  The  action 


MAEVEL.  91 

struck  Wriothesley  as  being  terribly  significant.  She  was 
tired  of  the  yacht,  and  tired  of  her  marriage,  and  tired  of 
her  life.  No  wonder,  too,  poor  child  !  She  had  made  a 
sorry  business  of  it  from  first  to  last !  He  felt  heavy  at 
heart  because  of  his  remorse.  What  right  had  he,  in  a 
mad  freak,  to  wed  this  unthinking  child  and  imagine  she 
would  be  content  to  sail  the  silent  seas  with  him,  without  a 
word  of  love  from  him,  from  day  to  day  ?  Yet  how  soon  she 
had  tired  !  He  could  not  help  thinking  her  in  a  degree  fickle. 

"  Well,  you  know  I  warned  you,"  he  said.  "  I  told  you 
a  yachting  expedition  was  the  stupidest  thing  going  for 
any  one  not  devoted  to  a  sea  life,  and  for  a  young  thing  like 
you.  Well,  I  can  put  in  at  Marseilles,  you  know,  and 
put  up  the  yacht  there,  and  take  you  back,  and " 

"  Oh,  no,  no !  I  don't  want  to  be  any  trouble  to  you, 
I  have  been  that  enough  already.  Burton  will  be  able  to 
take  care  of  me."  She  looked  at  him  eagerly  for  the  first 
time  since  her  entrance.  "  Then  I  may  go  ?  "  she  said. 

"  Of  course  you  can  do  as  you  wish." 

"And — and  you  will  let  me  go  alone  with  Burton?" 

He  laughed  shortly. 

"  As  I  am  such  a  bugbear  to  you,  I  certainly  shall  not 
add  to  your  apparent  unhappiness  by  thrusting  myself 
upon  you.  Let  Burton  be  your  escort  by  all  means ;  she 
is,  beyond  doubt,  old  enough  to  know  how  to  take  care  of 
herself  and  you." 

She  seemed  relieved  at  this,  in  spite  of  his  sneering  tone, 
and  turned  as  if  to  leave  him,  then  stopped,  irresolute. 

"  Well,  what  is  it  ? "  asked  he,  not  unkindly,  though 
some  sense  of  disappointment  was  irritating  him.  "  There 
is  something  else  you  want  to  say  ?  " 

"  There  is." 

She  came  back  again  softly,  and  drew  her  breath  with 
some  undue  haste.  Her  eyes  were  not  lowered  now,  how- 
ever, but  were  fixed  on  his,  with  a  glance  that  was  piercing 
in  its  anxiety. 

"  I  wish  I  had  not  married  you,"  she  said. 

The  words  came  so  quietly  and  with  such  calm  distinct- 
ness that  at  first  he  could  hardly  believe  his  ears.  Then 
his  brow  contracted. 


92  MARVEL. 

"  That  is  a  terrible  thing  to  say.  Are  you  quite  sure  you 
mean  it  ?  " 

"  Quite,  quite  sure."  She  drew  closer  to  him.  "  Why 
should  it  be  terrible  ?  "  she  asked.  "  The — our  marriage  can 
be  undone,  can't  it  ?  " 

It  was  impossible  not  to  see  with  what  overpowering 
anxiety  she  hung  upon  his  answer.  It  seemed  to  be  a 
matter  of  life  or  death  to  her,  this  question,  as  to  whether 
she  should  or  should  not  have  to  live  the  rest  of  her  life 
as  his  wife.  It  was  a  scarcely  flattering  thought,  and  he 
resented  it  sorely.  And  could  she  indeed  be  so  foolish,  so 
ignorant  as  to  have  a  doubt  on  the  subject  ?  He  looked 
at  the  pale  childish  face  uplifted  to  his,  and  saw  that  it  was 
indeed  so,  but  as  he  looked  he  misjudged  the  fear  in  the 
large  eyes  and  failed  to  understand  the  misery  that  sad- 
dened the  young  lips. 

"  I  am  afraid  I  must  tell  you  something  you  will  not  like 
to  hear,"  he  said  very  gently.  "  Our  marriage  cannot  be 
undone.  My  wife  you  must  remain  until  kindly  death 
releases  you  from  me,  or  me  from  you." 

To  her  there  seemed  a  world  of  regret  in  his  voice — 
regret  for  that  freedom  he  would  fain  have,  but  could  not 
grasp,  because  of  her.  The  sharp  pain  that  stabbed  her 
heart  like  a  knife  rose  to  her  lips. 

"  Oh  no  !  That  can't  be  true,"  she  cried  in  an  agonized 
tone.  "  Oh,  Fulke  !  dear  Fulke,  let  me  go.  Why,  think 
of  it ;  it  was  only  such  a  very,  very  little  time  ago.  Only 
four  weeks— -four.  And  how  shall  I  live  all  the  long  years 
before  me  ?  Oh,  I  will  not  believe  it  1  See  now,"  extend- 
ing her  hands  passionately,  "  send  me  home — anywhere 
away  from  you,  and  forget  that  wedding-day,  and  let  all 
things  be  as  they  were — four  weeks  ago." 

"  My  dear  child,  you  dream  of  impossibilities.  I  would 
gladly,  for  your  own  sake,  tell  you  otherwise,  if  I  could,  but 
I  cannot.  The  most  secret  marriage  on  earth  is  binding, 
and  ours  was  done  before  all  the  world.  The  law  will 
not  permit  us  to  separate — at  least,  so  entirely  as  you 
desire." 

"  How  can  there  be  such  a  wicked  law  ?  It  is  unjust, 
horrible."  She  clasped  her  slender  hands  upon  her  breast. 


MAKVEL.  93 

• 

"  How  am  I  to  live,"  she  cried,  "  with  this  weight  for  ever 
on  my  heart  ?  " 

"  You,  too,  are  unjust,"  said  Wriothesley  coldly.  "I  did 
not  compel  you  to  this  marriage." 

"No.  That  is  it,"  said  she  quickly,  lifting  her  lovely 
haggard  eyes  to  his.  "  It  was  I  who  made  you  marry  me. 
I  entreated  you;  I  begged  you  (oh  !  how  could  I  have  done 
it  ?)  not  to  leave  me  behind — alone.  And  now — now,"  with 
such  a  depth  of  misery  in  the  young  voice  as  struck  coldly 
to  his  heart,  "  I  am  doubly  alone." 

Remorse  grew  strong  within  him.  A  sudden  awakening 
to  the  fact  that  he  had  sacrificed  her  to  his  own  revenge, 
troubled  him ;  and  though  justice  had  followed  hard  upon 
the  heels  of  that  deed  and  his  revenge  had  recoiled  upon 
himself,  yet  he  could  not  hold  himself  free  of  blame  in  the 
matter.  She  had  asked  for  meat,  and  he  had  given  her  a 
stone.  How  could  he  have  thought  that  a  child  so  reared 
and  encompassed  with  love  as  she  had  been,  would  have 
rested  satisfied  with  the  barren  existence  he  had  given  her  ? 

"  I  cannot  hear  you  speak  like  that,"  he  said.  "  I,  only, 
am  in  fault.  I  have  done  you  so  great  a  wrong  that  I  know 
not  how  to  ask  your  forgiveness.  You  were,  you  are,  but 
a  mere  child,  yet  I  took  you  at  your  word.  I  permitted  you 
to  marry  a  man  nearly  twelve  years  your  senior.  I  feel  I 
have  spoiled  your  life." 

"  Is  that  how  it  seems  to  you  ? "  she  asked  with  in- 
describable sadness  in  look  and  tone. 

"That  is  how  it  must  seem." 

"  And  your  life?" 

"  As  for  that "  he  said,  and  paused.  Then  hurriedly, 

"  Feel  no  compuncUon  about  that.  It  is  not  in  your  power 
to  spoil  it." 

No,  truly ;  for  it  was  a  waste  and  ruined  thing  before 
ever  he  gave  it  into  her  possession. 

"  Are  you  sure — quite  sure,"  she  said,  "  that  things 
could  not  be  as  they  were  before  ?  That  I  could  not  be 
your  friend  again,  instead  of — your  wife." 

"  You  are  my  friend  still,  I  hope,"  said  he  rather  sharply ; 
"  or  am  I  to  understand  that  the  love  you  once  professed 
for  me  has  turned  to  hatred  ?  " 


94  MARVEL. 

"Do  not  think  that.  It  would  not  be  the  truth."  She 
spoke  slowly  and  painfully.  It  was  with  great  difficulty  she 
kept  back  her  tears.  How  strange  his  manner  was ;  almost 
it  might  seem  as  though  he  were  pleading  with  her.  But 
no — no  :  she  would  be  foolish  indeed  to  let  herself  imagine 
that. 

"  So  you  say.  Yet  you  would  gladly  annul  our  marriage ; 
and  you  are  bent  on  leaving  me  ?  " 

His  tone  was  a  question. 

"  I  cannot  bear  to  stay  here,"  she  said,  nervously  clasping 
and  unclasping  her  fingers. 

"  Then  you  shall  go,"  he  decided  abruptly.  "  The  only 
question  that  now  remains  between  us  is — where  ?  To  The 
Towers  ?  " 

"  Not  there !  Do  not  send  me  there,  Fulke,  T  entreat 
you ;  be  good  to  me  about  this.  I  could  not  live  there, 

thinking,  remembering "  She  broke  down  at  the  very 

thought  of  it,  and  covered  her  face  with  her  hands. 

"  Pray  be  composed,"  said  he  icily.  "  I  am  not  sending 
you  anywhere.  You  will  be  good  enough  to  recollect,  both 
now  and  in  the  future,  that  it  is  of  your  own  express  wish 
that  you  are  leaving  me." 

"  It  is  my  own  wish,"  she  echoed  faintly. 

"  If  not  to  The  Towers,  to  what  other  place  ?  There 
is " 

"  Could  I  not  go  somewhere — where  nobody  would  know 
me — where  I  could  be  quite  alone  ?  " 

"  Certainly  not." 

"But  why?  You  need  not,"  eagerly,  "be  uneasy 
about  me.  I  should  not  mind  being  quite  by  myself.  I 
should,"  with  a  quick  sigh,  "  like  it." 

"  But  I  shouldn't.  However  distasteful  the  fact  may  be 
to  you,  it  still  remains  that  you  are  my  wife.  I  shall  not 
permit  you  to  live  in  any  way  unsuited  to  the  name  and 
rank  you  bear.  Put  all  romantic  silly  thoughts  out  of  your 
head.  The  world  knows  you  as  Lady  Wriothesley  ;  and  as 
Lady  Wriothesley  you  will  have  to  comport  yourself."  His 
voice  was  stern  ;  his  eyes  flashed. 

"  I  meant  to  do  that  wherever  I  was,"  replied  she  with 
a  simple  dignity  that  disarmed  him,  in  spite  of  the  anger 


MAKVEL.  95 

that  was  growing  in  his  heart  towards  her.  For  such  a  way- 
ward, incomprehensible  girl,  he  had  ruined  every  hope  of 
happiness  he  knew. 

"  You  are  too  young  to  live  alone ;  but  if  you  do  not 
wish  to  go  to  The  Towers,  there  is  that  place  in  Yorkshire. 
It  is  handsome  and  carelessly  picturesque,  they  say,  and,  at 
all  events,  it  is  well  kept  up  and  ready  for  you  at  any 
moment.  Will  it  suit  you  ? "  His  manner  was  con- 
temptuous, and  she  resented  it. 

"  It  will  be  better  than  this,  I  daresay,"  she  said  calmly, 
and  with  some  spirit. 

"So  would  that  uncomfortable  cottage  you  hinted  at 
just  now,  I  have  no  doubt ;  or  anything,  even  worse.  Any 
discomfort  would  be  preferable  to  life  with  me.  I  have 
quite  grasped  the  situation,  I  assure  you,  so  you  need  not 
give  me  any  more  lessons  in  it.  Well,  shall  it  be  the 
Yorkshire  place,  or " 

"  Make  no  more  plans.  Yorkshire  will  do  very  well. 
It  is  all  the  same  to  me  where  I  go,"  interrupted  she 
wearily.  She  was  longing  to  escape,  to  be  by  herself,  that 
she  might  try  to  realize  the  fact  that  the  end  had  indeed 
come.  There  had  been,  perhaps,  underlying  everything, 
a  wild  hope  that  he  would  forbid  her  leaving  him,  but  how 
delusive  it  had  proved!  Far  from  forbidding,  he  was 
making  speedy  arrangements  for  her  departure. 

"Very  good,  I  shall  telegraph  to-day  to  Ringwood,  the 
name  of  your  future  home,  and  also  to  my  cousin,  Mrs. 
Verulam  ;  you  know  her  ?  " 

"I  have  met  her  twice." 

"  Then  you  like  her  ;  every  one  does.  I  shall  write  to 
her  to  go  up  there  and  stay  with  you,  and  see  to  you 
generally." 

"  Oh  don't  do  that,"  she  entreated  feverishly.  "  Indeed, 
I  shall  not  want  her ;  I  shall  not  want  any  one.  All  I 
desire  is  to  be  alone."  Poor  child,  how  passionately  she 
had  fought  against  that  loneliness  that  now  she  courted, 
only  a  month  ago  ! 

"  I  have  told  you  that  is  impossible.  Don't  be  silly, 
Marvel,"  he  said  impatiently,  "  you  are  too  young,  you  have, 
indeed,  proved  yourself  too  childish,  to  be  left  to  your  own 


96  MAKVEI* 

devices ;  you  do  not  know  your  own  mind  yet,  even  in 
your  likes  and  dislikes."  He  spoke  with  meaning,  and  she 
cast  one  long  reproachful  glance  at  him.  It  was  all  she 
could  trust  herself  to  do.  "  If  you  do  not  like  this  plan  of 
mine,  suggest  another.  Will  you  go  and  stay  with  Mr. 
Bainbridge  for  awhile  ?  " 

"  No ;   he  would  ask  me  questions,"  said  she  miserably. 

"  Then  you  see  we  must  fall  back  on  Mrs.  Verulam. 
She  is  young,  a  widow,  with  no  ties  except  a  little  girl  of 
five  or  so,  and  she  will,  I  know,  be  all  that  is  kind  to  you. 
I  should  not  suggest  her,  otherwise.  What  objection  have 
you  to  her,  as  a  friend,  a  chaperone,  if,  indeed,  she  will  be 
good  enough  to  give  up  her  own  arrangements  for  awhile?  " 

"  She  is  a  stranger,"  said  Marvel,  in  a  tone  that  was 
almost  a  whisper.  Her  poor  little  face  grew  white  with 
agonized  distress. 

"  My  dear  child,  if  I  were  to  consider  that"  said  he 
gently,  "  why,  all  the  world  is  a  stranger  to  you." 

He  paused,  his  own  words  fell  back  upon  him,  they 
were  so  fatally  true.  She  was  in  the  world  and  yet  not  of 
it;  she  understood  it  not  at  all.  She  was  a  stranger  in  a 
strange  land  !  The  wretchedness  of  it  all  touched  him 
closely,  though  he  was  still  curiously  angry  with  her  for 
her  abandonment  of  him.  How  solitary,  how  forlorn  she 
was.  All  were  strangers  to  her,  save  him,  her  husband, 
and  he  could  not  doubt  but  that  she  would  willingly  part 
from  him  for  ever. 

"See  here,  Marvel,"  said  he,  putting  out  his  own  and 
taking  her  hand.  "  In  this  matter,  at  least,  defer  to  my 
opinion.  I  believe  I  know  what  is  best  for  you.  Try 
Mrs.  Verulam,  and  I  think,  in  a  very  little  while,  you  will 
learn  to  love  her.  In  all  other  respects  I  have  given  you 
your  own  way.  As  you  are  not  happy  with  me,  I  accede 
to  your  desire  to  try  and  seek  happiness  where  I  am  not. 
1  am  going  abroad,  for  years  perhaps,  but  from  time  to 
time  I  shall  let  you  or  Mrs.  Verulam  hear  of  me.  If  by 
chance  I  get  my  quietus,  so  much  the  better  for  you \  if 
not  I  daresay  I  shall  get  home  some  day.  I  shall  so 
arrange  with  my  agents  that  any  money  you  may  require 
over  and  above  your  allowance  shall  always  be  awaiting 


MAiiVEL.  97 

you.  That  will  do,  I  think ;  but  if  there  is  anything  else, 
you  can  let  me  know — or  if  you  would  rather  not  write, 
tell  Cicely  Verulam.  And  now,  child,  do  not  distress 
yourself  any  more  about  it ;  it  was  an  unfortunate  piece  of 
folly  from  the  beginning,  but  you  must  promise  me  to  try 
and  make  the  best  of  it." 

He  was  speaking  very  seriously.  When  he  stopped, 
Marvel  looked  up  at  him,  with  her  large  eyes  full  of  tears. 

"  I  hope_>'0«  will  try,"  she  said.  There  was  something  in 
her  expression  1'hat  puzzled  him  then  and  dwelt  in  his 
memory  long  afterwards.  She  drew  her  fingers  out  of  his 
grasp  and  went  quickly  away. 


CHAPTER    XVII. 

M  But  still  her  lips  refused  to  say  '  Farewell,1 
For  in  that  word — that  fatal  word — howe'er 
We  promise — hope — believe — there  breathes  despair." 

THERE  was  little  more  said  between  them  as  to  this  strange 
parting,  and  the  arrangements  connected  with  it  were 
completed  in  a  week  or  so.  Marvel  continued  to  avoid 
him  as  much  as  possible,  a  matter  in  which  he  silently 
helped  her,  being  in  no  wise  desirous  of  seeing  her;  but 
when  they  did  meet,  it  was  to  all  outward  seeming  with  as 
friendly  a  feeling  as  usual.  At  length  the  day  arrived  on 
which  Marvel  was  to  set  out  on  her  homeward  journey,  and 
just  before  leaving  the  yacht  she  went  into  the  saloon, 
ostensibly  to  regain  a  book  she  had  left  there,  but  in 
reality  to  bid  a  silent  farewell  to  a  spot  in  which  she  had 
been  for  a  few  weeks,  at  least,  comparatively  happy.  It 
was  with  an  irrepressible  start  that  she  saw  Wriothesley 
at  the  end  of  it.  He  came  quickly  forward ;  and  by  a 
supreme  effort  she  recovered  her  self-possession.  She  was 
dressed  in  her  travelling-gown,  with  a  little  soft  becoming 
hat  upon  her  head,  and  if  rather  paler  than  her  wont,  still 
showed  no  sign  of  the  anguish  she  was  suffering. 

"  The  last  moment  has  come,  I  suppose,"  said  Wriothesley, 


98  MARVEL. 

trying,  but  failing,  to  speak  in  his  natural  tone.  "While 
you  are  away  from  me,  you  must  tiy  to  get  me  back  into 
the  good  graces,  out  of  which,  it  seems,  I  have  so  wofully 
fallen.  You  will  promise  that,  won't  you  ?  " 

She  was  silent.  She  did  not  know  how  to  answer  him, 
and,  besides,  she  was  afraid  that  if  she  spoke  she  would 
also  burst  out  crying.  That  was  to  be  avoided  at  all 
hazards. 

"  What,  not  even  that  poor  comfort  is  to  be  accorded 
me?"  said  he;  "I  am  in  greater  disgrace,  it  seems,  even 
than  I  thought."  He  was  smiling,  but  there  was  no  real 
amusement  in  the  smile,  and,  in  spite  of  himself,  he  was 
feeling  singularly  downhearted.  Even  by  this  child  he  was 
being  abandoned.  He  had  failed  at  all  points.  The  world 
was  out  of  joint  with  him,  and  the  best  of  life  was  denied 
him.  Love  flew  very  near,  circling  round  and  round,  yet 
though  he  stretched  out  his  hands  to  it  and  called  aloud, 
it  would  not  come  nigh  him. 

"  And  you,  Marvel,"  he  said,  "  who  would  have  thought  a 
baby  like  you  could  be  so  hard  ?  But  perhaps  it  is  because 
you  are  one.  Yet  it  is  unlike  you,  too,  to  bear  malice 
(whatever  it  may  be  about,  which  is  a  mystery  to  me)  for 
so  long.  And,  after  all,  /  should  be  the  one  to  bear  it." 

"  You,"  she  said  suddenly,  looking  at  him  \  "  oh  no." 

"  Why  not  ?  You  remember  how  you  once  asked  me,  if 
husbands  ever  forsook  their  wives,  and  I  told  you  no,  but 
that  wives  sometimes  had  been  known  to  leave  their  hus- 
bands? You  did  not  believe  me  then,  perhaps,  but  you 
will  have  to  now.  You  see  I  spoke  only  the  barren  truth 
It  isyvu  who  are  leaving  me." 

"That  is  better,"  she  said  slowly,  "than  if  I  had  waited 
for  you  to  leave  me." 

"  Was  that  so  sure  a  thing?  "  He  began  to  regard  her 
curiously.  What  wild  thoughts  were  running  in  her  youth- 
ful head  ?  He  had  not  grasped  the  truth,  that  sorrow  was 
quickly  changing  the  child  into  the  woman ;  and  he  was 
only  doubtful  as  to  whether  it  was  pure  fickleness  or  a 
childish  whim  that  had  formed  her.  decision  to  return  to 
England.  "  Come,"  he  said,  "  tell  me  why  you  anticipated 
that." 


MAEVEL.  99 

"  I  cannot ;  I  don't  know,"  she  said  with  nervous  hesi- 
tation. At  this  moment  of  confusion  it  appeared  to  her 
as  though  she  could  not  give  a  real  reason  for  what  she 
said. 

"  Then  I  may  not  know  my  crime  ?  "  said  he,  still  in  the 
half-jesting  tone  he  had  used  all  through. 

"  There  is  no  crime,  and — I  wish  you  would  not  talk  of 
it,"  she  said  in  a  fit  of  desperation.  "  This  is  the  end  of  it 
all ;  and  — why  talk  of  it  ?  " 

"  True,"  he  said ;  "  it  is  the  end."  He  had  grown  quite 
grave,  which  indeed  suited  more  his  real  feeling.  "  Besides, 
I  do  not  think,  after  all,  that  there  is  any  malice  on  your 
part,  or  any  cause  for  it  on  mire,  but  only  that  you  are  tired 
of  the  dreary  farce,  you  poor  child  ! " 

This  entered  her  heart  like  a  sharp  thrust.  Tired  } 
That  she  was  tired  of  him !  An  angry  passion  of  regret, 
a  terrible  longing  to  tell  him  all,  welled  up  within  her,  but 
she  knew  that  she  could  not  do  it,  and  rebelliously  enough, 
the  longing  died.  No,  she  could  not  open  her  heart  to 
one  who  considered  her  a  burden  and  who  had  looked  at 
her  with  hatred  in  his  eyes. 

"  It  is  growing  late,"  she  said  restlessly. 

"  In  such  mad  haste  to  depart  ?  Well,  come  then."  Yet 
he  hesitated  for  a  moment — then,  "  Shall  we  say  the  real 
good-bye  here,"  he  said,  "  rather  than  at  the  railway 
station  ?  It  will  be  for  a  long  time,  remember — and — we 
have  been  fri  ends." 

But  Marvel  was  still  vehemently  if  silently  angry,  and 
with  the  anger  was  a  numb  pain  that  seemed  to  crush  all 
the  life  out  of  her.  She  could  not  respond  to  the  gentle 
reminder  as  she  must  have  done  had  her  mind  been  in  a 
happier  state.  She  felt  frozen — dead  to  all  kindly  impulse, 
and  with  only  the  living  remembrance  that  there  was  "  that 
other  "  somewhere  in  some  unknown  place,  where  he  fain 
would  be. 

"  Good-bye,"  she  answered  in  a  low  strained  tone.  Her 
eyes  were  on  the  ground.  Still  without  looking  at  him,  she 
extended  one  small  hand.  He  took  it,  and  drew  her  a 
little  closer  to  him. 

"  Will  you  not  kiss  me,  Marvel  ?  * 


loo  MAKVEU 

She  hesitated  perceptibly,  and  then  remembering  all  the 
near  past,  she  felt  that  she  could  not  do  it. 

"  No,"  she  said,  "  I  do  not  want  to  kiss  you  ever 
again." 

He  changed  colour,  but  he  said  nothing  more.  He 
pressed  her  hand  very  kindly  and  warmly,  and  then  dropped 
it.  Burton,  the  maid,  came  in  fussily  with  a  number  of 
small  parcels  in  her  arms,  and  it  was  all  over. 

Presently  they  went  ashore  and  he  saw  her  into  the 
train.  He  had  tried  to  procure  a  private  carriage  for  her, 
but  she  had  not  seemed  to  care  about  it,  and  indeed  as 
some  little  foreign  royalties  had  taken  most  of  the  carriages 
it  would  have  been  impossible.  The  station  was  quite 
blocked  by  them  and  their  noisy  attendants,  but  he  managed 
to  get  Marvel  very  comfortably  settled  in  spite  of  it  all. 
She  had  her  books,  her  basket  of  fruit,  some  lovely  flowers, 
and  the  redoubtable  Burton,  who  owned  to  six-and-thirty 
and  looked  fifty,  which  only  shows  how  mistaken  one 
might  be  in  the  age  of  any  one. 

There  was  an  old  lady  on  the  opposite  seat,  and  at  the 
very  farthest  end  of  the  carriage,  comfortably  nestled  into 
the  corner,  a  dark  young  man  with  a  heavy  moustache  and 
eager  piercing  black  eyes  that  secerned  to  take  in  Marvel, 
Wriothesley,  and  the  old  lady  in  one  glance.  An  instant 
later,  he  had  taken  in  Burton  also,  and,  an  instant  later 
still,  the  situation.  That  is  in  so  far  as  it  meant  a  parting 
between  the  lovely  girl  at  the  window  and  the  tall  tired- 
looking  fellow  on  the  platform. 

Marvel  did  not  notice  him  at  all,  and  Wriothesley  but 
indifferently;  but  Burton,  who  prided  herself  on  being 
always  wide-awake  and  never  missing  anything,  decided 
immediately  that  he  was  English  and  a  gentleman,  and 
might  be  useful  to  them  in  little  ways  on  their  journey. 
Not  that  Lurton  required  assistance  either  for  herself  or  her 
mistress,  as  she  was  an  old  soldier  and  had  "  done  the 
Continong  " — as  she  was  fond  of  reminding  her  fellow- 
servants  many  a  time  and  oft — from  "  Boolong  to  Monty 
Carlo." 

Wriothesley  was  taking  a  last  survey  round  the  carriage ; 
-hat  is,  Marvel's  portion  of  it. 


MAKVEI*  lot 

"They  haven't  put  in  your  rugs,"  he  said  hurriedly, 
and  rushed  off  to  see  about  them.  Burton  was  at  that 
moment  struggling  valiantly  with  a  small  bag  that  was  being 
considerably  sat  upon  by  the  other  numerous  valises  and 
packages,  and  the  dark  young  man,  after  following  her 
efforts  for  some  time  with  open  interest,  rose  languidly  and 
came  to  her  assistance.  Burton,  pleased  with  the  perspi- 
cuity of  a  while  since  that  had  assured  her  he  was  a  gentle- 
man, and  which  was  now  confirmed  beyond  a  doubt,  said, 
"  Thank  you,  sir,"  very  gratefully,  and  with  as  elaborate  a 
curtsey  as  the  catching  of  her  knees  by  the  opposite  cushion 
would  permit.  Marvel,  hearing  her  voice,  raised  her  head, 
and  thus  met  full  the  penetrating  gaze  that  the  dark  young 
man  was  bestowing  upon  her  whilst  hastening  to  the  help 
of  her  maid. 

Burton  having  had  the  bag  extricated  for  her  was 
anxious  to  pass  it  on  to  her  mistress,  whose  handkerchiefs 
and  perfumes  it  held,  and  the  stranger  being  the  nearest  to 
Marvel,  and  being  the  one  standing  up,  naturally  did  it  for 
her. 

"Thank  you,"  said  Marvel  in  her  turn,  and  the  stranger, 
as  if  satisfied,  bowed  low  and  returned  to  his  seat.  He 
was  satisfied.  That  low,  sweet,  melancholy  voice  exactly 
suited  the  exquisitely  sweet  and  melancholy  beauty  of  the 
girl  before  him.  That  she  was  married  to  the  rather  stern- 
looking  man  on  the  platform  did  not  occur  to  him  for  a 
second. 

Wriothesley  came  hurrying  back,  a  porter  carrying  the 
rugs.  The  train  was  on  the  point  of  starting,  and  he 
glanced  at  Marvel  to  see  if  any  sign  of  regret  showed  upon 
her  passive  features.  She  was  calm  and  cold  as  ever.  He 
could  hardly  believe  it  was  the  merry  loving  child  of  a 
month  ago  who  sat  there,  apparently  indifferent  to  the 
fact  that  she  was  bidding  him  a  farewell  that  might  be 
eternal.  He  was  bitterly  disappointed.  He  had  not  un- 
derstood, of  course,  this  freak  of  hers,  but  however  brought 
about  she  might,  he  thought,  at  the  very  last  have  shown 
some  feeling. 

0  Well,  good-bye,"  he  said,  pressing  her  hand.  *'  You 
are  sure  you  are  quite  comfortable  ?  Enough  rugs  ?  Take 


108  MAEVEL. 

care  you  make  use  of  them,    the  night  will  be  chilly 
Good-bye !     Good-bye  ! " 

The  train  moved  off.  She  had  said  nothing.  Almost  at 
the  last  he  glanced  round  and  looked  for  her  again.  She 
was  leaning  out  of  the  carriage  window,  her  eyes  fixed  on 
him  :  there  was  a  terrible  despair  on  her  young  face,  and 
he  could  see  that  the  tears  were  running  down  her  cheeks. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

"  To  act  with  common  sense,  according  to  the  moment,  is  the 
best  wisdom  I  know  ;  and  the  best  philosophy,  to  do  one's 
duties,  take  the  world  as  it  comes,  submit  respectfully  to  one's 
lot,  and  despise  affectation." 

"  MY  good  child,  I  wish,  at  all  events,  that  you  would  not 
study  to  be  absurd.  Sooner  or  later  you  will  have  to  show 
yourself  to  people,  and  why  not  sooner  ?  You  couldn't 
possibly  have  a  more  excellent  opportunity  than  the  present, 
yet  you  are  bent  on  shirking  it." 

"  That  is  scarcely  it ;  I " 

"  It  is  precisely  it — '  It,'  in  a  nutshell.  You  haven't  a 
solitary  good  excuse  for  your  refusal  to  attend  my  dance. 
It  is  downright  ungrateful  of  you  after  all  the  trouble  I  have 
taken  to  make  your  story  good  during  tjie  past  twelve 
months.  Oh !  the  tarradiddles  I  have  told,  the  gentle 
hints  I  have  flung  abroad  !  I  have  been  chanting  your 
praises  ceaselessly,  and  giving  all  sorts  of  pretty  little 
reasons  for  your  separation  from  your  husband,  though  I 
confess  it  went  desperately  hard  with  me  to  avoid  downright 
personal  abuse  of  that  precious  Fulke  of  yours.  Cousin  or 
no  cousin,  in  my  opinion  he  deserves  nothing  short  of  the 
bastinado  !  However,  I  did  abstain,  and  if  only  as  a  reward 
for  so  unexpected  a  mildness,  you  might  promise  me  to  be 
present  on  the  loth." 

"  Dearest  Cicely,  if  you  would  only  not  ask  me,"  said 
Marvel  in  a  soft  distressed  tone,  as  she  came  out  from 
behind  the  lace  curtains  of  the  window,  where  she  had 
been  sitting,  to  glance  imploringly  at  Mrs.  Verulam ;  and 


MARVEI*  103 

as  she  now  stood  with  the  full  glory  of  the  autumn 
sunshine  streaming  down  upon  her,  it  was  marvellous 
to  mark  the  change  that  a  hare  year  had  wrought  in  her. 

Then  she  was  a  child  ;  now  she  was  a  woman.  A  girlish 
creature  still,  but  with  a  face  so  earnest,  so  intelligent,  so 
beautiful  in  the  strictest  sense  of  that  word,  that  it  was 
an  exquisite  pleasure  only  to  look  upon  her. 

Yet  there  were  lines  of  sadness  about  the  mobile  mouth, 
and  a  mournful  light  in  the  large  sweet  eyes.  She  had 
thought  out  many  things  and  learned  much  that  was 
sorrowful,  because  inevitable,  since  her  parting  with 
Wriothesley,  although  the  world,  as  represented  by  society, 
was  as  yet  a  sealed  book  to  her. 

She  had  gone  straight  to  Ringwood,  according  to  her 
husband's  desire,  where  Mrs.  Verulam  had  received  her, 
having,  indeed,  thrown  over  several  engagements  to  do  so. 
She  was  charmed  with  the  pretty  desolate  little  bride, 
the  poor  little  returned  goods  as  she  called  her,  and  as  she 
learned  to  like  her  better  and  better,  indignant  with 
Wriothesley  because  of  his  treatment  of  her.  She  had  a 
pretty  accurate  guess  of  how  matters  stood  from  the 
beginning,  and  a  little  judicious  questioning  had  extracted 
enough  from  Marvel  to  make  her  half  knowledge  a  whole. 
She  wrote  Wriothesley  a  long  letter,  that  was  a  perfect 
masterpiece  of  elegant  vituperation,  and  took  to  petting 
Marvel  as  though  she  were  an  invalid  of  a  very  advanced 
stage. 

But  she  had  her  own  duties  to  perform,  and  guests, 
previously  invited,  to  entertain,  so  that  most  of  the  months 
spent  in  that  cold  northern  home  were  solitary  ones  to 
Marvel ;  and  sad  as  solitary.  Now  and  again  they  were 
broken  into  by  Mrs.  Verulam's  flying  visits,  who  was  always 
very  good  to  her,  and  of  whom  the  girl  was  wonderfully 
fond  ;  but  for  all  that,  too  much  time  was  given  her  in 
which  to  brood  ceaselessly  over  her  wrongs,  and  her 
undying  regrets. 

So  thought  Mrs.  Verulam  on  her  last  visit,  and  at  the 
beginning  of  the  spring  she  had  asserted  her  authority  as 
being  somewhat  of  a  guardian  to  the  young  countess,  and 
carried  her  away  nolens  volens  from  that  bleak  castle  of 


104  MAliVEL, 

sighs,  down  southward  to  her  own  smaller  but  far  cosier 
home.  And  after  awhile  Marvel  had  learned  to  be  grate- 
ful for  the  change.  Here  little  time  was  given  her  for 
morbid  reflections,  and  after  a  bit  some  of  the  cruel 
shrinking  from  contact  with  those  around  her  wore 
away. 

Still,  the  world,  with  her,  was  always  out  of  gear.  There 
was  something  wrong  always.  Her  sun  was  ever  under 
a  cloud.  Each  morning  she  awoke  with  a  sense  of  dull 
pain,  and  a  vague  knowledge  that  her  life  was  wanting  in 
those  fuller  rounds  of  grief  and  joy  that  to  others  made 
existence  tolerable. 

Mrs.  Verulam  would  fain  have  carried  her  off  with  her 
for  a  season  in  town,  eager  to  exhibit  her  fresh  uncommon 
beauty  to  an  admiring  crowd,  but  Marvel  would  not  listen 
to  such  a  proposition.  She  grew  so  pale,  so  distressed,  at 
the  very  thought  of  it,  that  Mrs.  Verulam,  though  always 
unwilling  to  give  up  a  point,  abstained  from  further  press- 
ing, and  enjoyed  her  two  months  in  town  without  her. 

And  Marvel  missed  her;  not  only  her  but  the  little 
daughter,  the  saucy,  merry,  thoughtful  child,  who  was  Mrs. 
Verulam's  sole  happy  gain  from  a  most  distasteful  marriage. 
Her  husband,  the  Hon.  Moore  Verulam,  was  dead,  how- 
ever, and  the  child  Lulu  was  left,  so  there  was  a  good  deal 
to  be  thankful  for,  as  his  wife  would  say  sometimes,  in  a 
soft  plaintive  way;  and  Verulam,  whose  prefix  was  the  sole 
honourable  thing  about  him,  had  left  her,  without  intending 
it,  a  rich  woman.  She  was  a  pretty  woman  too,  of  about 
seven-and-twenty,  with  merry  gray  eyes,  a  rather  mutinous 
mouth,  and  a  nose  that  had  the  faintest,  sauciest  inclination 
upwards.  The  child  Lulu  was  the  very  image  of  her,  and 
the  idol  of  her  rather  impulsive  heart. 

She  was  now  seriously  ambitious  of  carrying  a  point  to 
which  she  had  almost  pledged  herself.  When  in  town  she 
had  spoken  so  much  of  Lady  Wriothesley's  personal  charms, 
and  so  mysteriously  of  her  separation  from  her  husband, 
that  every  one  was  eagerly  desirous  of  being  made  more 
immediately  acquainted  with  her.  Mrs.  Verulam  had  asked 
down  a  good  many  for  the  twelfth.  Her  brother-in-law, 
Lord  Verulam,  who  was  an  enthusiastic  sportsman,  and  his 


JIAEVEL.  105 

wife,  amongst  others,  and  she  had  half  promised  them  that 
this  Marvel  of  marvels  should  also  be  one  of  the  guests. 
All  were  to  arrive  about  the  ninth,  and  as  there  was  an 
occasion  to  entertain  a  newly-made  bride,  Mrs.  Verulam 
had  arranged  to  give  a  ball  on  the  tenth.  This  would  give 
the  sportsmen  the  whole  of  the  eleventh  on  which  to  rest, 
and  after  that  the  deluge — for  the  birds.  But  just  now  her 
programme  was  a  little  spoiled,  because  of  the  fact  that 
Marvel  had  steadily  declined  to  show  herself  either  at  the 
dance  or  in  the  house  during  the  stay  of  her  party.  She 
would  go  back  to  Ringwood,  she  said  gently,  until  Mrs. 
Verulam  was  alone  again,  or  wanted  her.  But  Mrs.  Veru- 
lam this  time,  in  spite  of  pale  looks  and  distressed  tones, 
pressed  her  sore. 

"  If  you  would  only  not  ask  me,"  said  Marvel. 

"  But  I  shall  ask  you ;  always,  and  all  day  long,  until  I 
make  your  life  a  burden  to  you.  Come,  now,  Marvel,  you 
are  such  a  very  good  child  that  I  think  you  ought  to  consider 
how  wrong  it  is  of  you  to  fight  against  those  in  authority. 
And  really  if  you  come  to  look  into  it,  I  stand  as  a  mother 
to  you." 

Marvel  laughed. 

"  A  pretty  mother  you'd  make  me,"  she  said,  with  mock 
contempt.  "  Why,  I  could  put  you  in  my  pocket !  "  Mrs. 
Verulam  was  a  little  thing,  fairy-like,  and  mischievous; 
Marvel,  tall  and  slender. 

"  Is  that  a  deferential  speech  ?  I  shall  have  to  send 
Lulu  away.  Go,  darling,  into  the  garden,  until  Marvel 
ceases  to  be  naughty.  Now,  a  word  with  you,  Madame 
Wriothesley.  You  scoff  at  the  thought  of  my  treating  you 
as  a  child,  yet  I  firmly  believe  that  that  baby  who  has  just 
gone  out  has  twice  your  common  sense." 

"And  all  this,"  said  Marvel,  throwing  out  her  hands 
expressively,  "  because " 

"You  must  let  me  give  you  your  proper  position  in 
society.  Dearest  girl,  be  reasonable.  You  are  not  a 
nobody ;  you  are  a  countess.  Do  you  think  it  is  your  duty 
to  hide  yourself,  as  though — as  though — well,  as  though 
you  were  ashamed  of  something  ?  " 

She  said  this  rather  quickly,  as  if  a  trifle  ashamed  of 


106  MAEVEL. 

herself  for  thus  working  on  the  other's  tenderest  point ;  yet 
she  meant  well  by  Marvel  always. 

"  That  is  it,"  said  Marvel  in  a  low  voice.  "  I  am 
ashamed.  What  woman  amongst  them  all  is  situated  as  I 
am  ?  A  wife,  yet  no  wife.  Uncared  for,  unloved.  A  burden 
in  her  husband's  sight.  No.  I  cannot  meet  your  friends." 

"  If  you  are  unloved — and  oh,  Marvel,  looking  at  you  it 
is  hard  to  realize  that ! — do  not  imagine  you  are  the  only 
one  in  the  world  in  that  predicament." 

"  But  how  account  for  a  separation  five  weeks  after  our 
marriage  ?  Marriage !  what  a  mockery  it  all  was,"  she  said 
with  a  sudden  indrawing  of  her  breath. 

"I  have  accounted  for  everything.  You  were  not  well. 
Sea-air  disagreed  with  you.  Wriothesley  had  to  go  on 
business  to  Jamaica.  I  hope  to  goodness  he  will  go  to 
Jamaica  before  he  comes  back  or  it  will  be  rather  awkward 
for  me.  Nigger  rising ;  any  amount  of  property  there  to  be 
looked  after.  He  has  an  acre  or  two,  I  believe — a  corner 
somewhere.  Still  detained  in  spite  of  longing  to  return, 
&c.  I've  written  it  all  to  Wriothesley,  so  if  he  doesn't  act 
up  to  my  manifesto,  he's  a  worse  man  than  I  think  him, 
which  is  saying  a  lot." 

"  I  wish  you  wouldn't  speak  of  him  like  that,"  said 
Marvel  flushing  and  then  paling. 

"  Well,  I  won't.  I'll  speak  of  him  as  being  the  possessor 
of  all  the  cardinal  virtues  if  you  will  only  consent  to  be  one 
of  my  guests  on  the  loth.  Hide  yourself,  up  to  that  if  you 
will  (there  is  always  influenza  and  the  useful  headache,  the 
gods  be  thanked  !),  but  do  say  you  will  appear  afterwards." 

"You  make  it  very  hard  for  me,"  said  Marvel,  tears 
filling  her  eyes.  "  You  know  how  I  hate  to  disappoint  you 
in  any  way ;  you,  who  have  been  so  good  to  me." 

"  Yes,  haven't  I,"  said  she  laughing,  "  and  this  is  for  your 
good  too,  you  brainless  person.  Pull  yourself  together  now, 
and  say  '  yes '  to  me." 

"  I  shouldn't  know  what  to  say  to  them,"  nervously,  "  or 
they  to  me.  It  would  be  but  a  poor  experiment,  and  you 
would  regret  it  afterwards.  I  have  not  been  accustomed  to 
fashionable  people,  and,"  mournfully,  "  you  know  I  am  not 
happy." 


MARVEL.  107 

"  I  know  that  you  are  naturally  as  merry  as  a  cricket  and 
that  you  only  want  a  little  rousing  to  return  to  your  normal 
state.  As  to  your  behaviour,  all  you  have  to  do  is  to  talk 
to  them  as  you  talk  to  me ;  to  look  your  loveliest ;  to  con- 
descend a  little  to  those  of  lower  estate  (in  the  way  of 
beauty),  and  the  day  is  yours." 

"  A  simple  sounding  thing,  but  oh !  how  difficult !  I 
should  fail,  Cicely,  and  then  again,  I  have  never  been  at  a 
ball." 

Was  there  a  relenting  in  this  speech,  a  sudden  youthful 
longing  for  the  fleshly  joys  hitherto  unknown  to  her.  Mrs. 
Verulam's  heart  leaped  in  her  side  with  a  sudden  access  of 
hope. 

"  As  to  that,"  she  said,  "  the  rules  are  simpler  still.  You 
order  a  decent  gown  from  Worth.  You  put  on  the 
Wriothesley  diamonds,  and  there  you  are.  Speak,  or  be 
silent ;  dance,  or  look  on  as  you  will,  I  still  promise  you, 
with  such  a  face  as  yours,  you  will  astonish  the  natives.  Is 
that  enough  flattery  for  one  day  ?  "  Then  changing  her 
tone  to  one  of  earnest  entreaty  :  "  Darling  Marvel !  It  is 
because  I  love  you  I  thus  adjure  you.  When  Fulke  comes 
home  do  you  think  he  will  like  to  find  you  unknown, 
unthought  of — of  no  account  ?  Rather,  I  think,  would  he 
be  pleased  to  know  you  esteemed  and  admired.  And  have 
you  no  pride  ?  or  if  so,  where  is  it  ?  Is  it  nothing  to  you 
that  he  should  find  /ter,  whom  he  had  treated  as  an  insigni- 
ficant child,  a  leader,  an  acknowledged  centre  in  the 
crowd  ?  " 

Her  words  seemed  to  burn  into  Marvel.  She  was  far  too 
simple-minded,  too  pure,  for  them  to  do  her  any  harm,  but 
a  longing  to  distinguish  herself,  to  raise  herself  in  his  eyes,  to 
show  him  that  she  was  in  reality  more  than  the  "insignificant 
child  "  took  possession  of  her.  Her  colour  changed.  Her 
eyes  took  a  deeper  shade.  She  turned  suddenly  to  Mrs. 
Verulam  and  said  in  a  soft  but  agitated  tone  : 

"  It  shall  be  as  you  wish.  You  shall  order  me  a  gown, 
and  I  will  appear  at  your  dance ;  but  not  until  then.  I 
could  not.  Will  that  satisfy  you?  " 

"  Quite.  Entirely.  Oh  !  Marvel,  I  am  so  glad."  She 
threw  her  arme  round  Marvel's  neck  and  kissed  her.  To  do 


io8  MARVEL, 

her  justice  she  was  far  more  sincerely  glad  for  Marvel's  sake 
than  for  her  own  that  the  girl  had  at  last  consented  to  come 
out  of  her  shell  Then  a  sudden  thought  struck  her  and 
frightened  her : 

"  I  hope  you  will  like  the  people  I  have  asked,"  she  said, 
"  but  of  course  you  need  not  talk  to  everybody ;  and  I  un- 
fortunately gave  carte  blanche  to  my  sister-in-law,  Lady 
Lucy,  to  bring  any  one  she  chose,  and  she  is  bringing 
Mrs.  Scarlett." 

"  Yes,"  said  Marvel.  She  waited,  unaware  that  Mrs. 
Verulam's  steady  gaze  at  her  meant  anything,  and  then : 
"  Who  is  Mrs.  Scarlett,  and  why  shouldn't  she  bring  her  ?  " 

"  Well,  because  I  don't  happen  to  care  for  her,"  said 
Mrs.  Verulam  somewhat  confusedly.  "  But  she  has  been 
invited  in  my  name,  and  there  is  no  getting  out  of  it.  But 
I  must  say  I  think  Lady  Lucy  is  the  most  troublesome 
woman  I  know." 

"  Except  me,"  said  Marvel  smiling.  u  But  this  poor 
Mrs.  Scarlett,  whom  you  so  detest.  What  of  her  ?  Who 
is  she?" 

"  The  fashionable  beauty  even  now,  though  a  year  has 
elapsed  since  she  first  dawned  upon  an  appreciative  London 
audience,  and — a  wretch"  said  Mrs.  Verulam,  quite  carried 
away  by  such  a  paltry  thing  as  honest  feeling,  as  she  looked 
at  Marvel's  gentle,  spiritual  face. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

"Shall  not  thy  vision  vex  me  alive  and  dead?" 
•  *  *  #  * 

"  Every  spirit  as  it  is  most  pure, 
And  hath  in  it  the  more  of  heavenly  light, 
So  it  the  fairer  body  doth  procure, 
To  habit  in  ;  *   .        .        .        . " 

THE  riddles  had  been  tuned  to  their  most  correct 
pitch,  and  were  playing  away  valiantly.  The  rooms  were 
growing  every  moment  more  and  more  crowded.  Through 


MAKVEL.  109 

all  the  open  windows  came  the  sweet  perfume  of  the  living 
flowers  without,  to  mingle  with  that  of  the  dying  ones 
within.  Through  the  close  velvety  darkness  one's  eyes 
could  pierce  to  where  starlike  lights  hung  suspended  on 
tree  and  shrub. 

The  lord-lieutenant  of  the  county,  who  was  a  real  live 
duke  and  a  bachelor  to  boot  (though  an  old  one)  had 
arrived  half-an-hour  ago,  yet  still  the  house  party — more 
particularly  Lady  Lucy  Verulam  openly,  and  Mrs.  Scarlett 
secretly — were  on  the  very  tiptoe  of  expectation. 

Would  she  come  ?  Would  she  not  come  ?  That  was 
the  enthralling  question  of  the  hour.  Lady  Lucy  almost 
lost  her  place  in  her  conversation  with  the  duke,  so  absorbed 
was  she  in  it.  She  dearly  loved  excitement  in  any  form,  and 
here  was  a  chance  of  seeing  the  downfall  of  her  dear  friend 
Mrs.  Scarlett,  who,  up  to  this  had  reigned  queen-paramount 
of  beauty.  If  all  that  Cicely  had  said  was  true  !  But  who 
could  be  depended  upon  ?  She  rather  feared  that  Marvel 
would  fall  far  below  the  standard  raised. 

Mrs.  Scarlett,  in  an  exquisite  gown  of  cardinal  brocade, 
looked  like  a  spot  of  blood  in  the  assembly.  She  was 
sitting  as  usual — she  seldom  stood — surrounded  by  a  group 
of  admirers.  She  was  as  handsome  as  ever  in  her  own  pecu- 
liar style,  yet  one  could  not  fail  to  see  that  the  year  that  had 
gone  by  had  told  upon  her.  Her  colour  was  a  little  higher, 
her  lashes  blacker,  but  all  the  art  in  the  world  could  not 
hide  the  lines  that  physical  pain  had  drawn  round  the  thin 
but  exquisitely  formed  lips.  She  had  been  threatened  by 
half-a-dozen  young  beauties  during  the  past  season,  all 
lovely  enough  (said  rumour)  to  put  her  in  the  shade,  yet, 
when  confronted  with  her — though  charming  girls  in  every 
way — it  had  been  seen  that  they  were  nowhere,  when 
foolishly  brought  beneath  the  glare  of  her  charms,  and  had 
dropped  out  of  notice  after  a  while. 

But  to-night  some  strange  foreboding  made  her  heart  chill. 
All  along  her  instinct  had  warned  her  against  that  protegee 
of  Lady  Mary  Craven's.  She  half  dreaded  this  girl  as  a 
possible  rival,  and  wholly  hated  her  as  the  being  who  had 
stepped  in  and  won  from  her  her  lawful  prey.  If  that  old 
man  Dawtry  had  not  been  gathered,  when  even  over-ripe, 


HO  MARVEL. 

to  his  fathers,  Wriothesley  could  easily  have  been  let  go, 
but  as  he  had  joined  the  majority,  it  was  a  bitter  thing  to 
her  that  Wriothesley — her  pis-aller — had  been  put  out  of 
her  reach  by  a  child,  a  mere  chit  of  a  thing  of  whom  he 
had  proved  himself  tired  in  five  or  six  weeks.  She  had 
heard  all  Mrs.  Verulam's  kindly  explanations  of  course,  as 
to  the  cause  of  Wriothesley's  separation  from  his  wife,  but 
she  had  carefully  believed  none  of  them. 

She  lay  back  in  her  chair  as  she  thought  of  it  now,  and 
smiled  to  herself  insolently.  She  I  afraid  of  a  fool,  a  failure 
such  as  that !  The  boasted  beauty  of  her  must  be  a  poor 
thing,  indeed,  if  a  man  could  tire  of  it  in  five  short  weeks. 
All  through  her  meditations  she  was  throwing  a  word  here 
and  there  to  her  courtiers,  but  her  mind  was  with  the 
girl  who  had  stolen  Wriothesley  from  her,  and  spoiled  her 
chance  of  being  a  countess,  and  she  was  glad  in  her  soul 
that  Marvel  had  been  openly  slighted  by  the  man  she  had 
married,  and  made  of  no  account  by  him.  She  told  herself 
she  scoffed  at  and  derided  such  charms  as  hers — charms 
that  could  take  and  yet  not  hold  a  man,  and 

Marvel  had  entered  the  room !  A  tall,  slender,  stately 
creature,  clad  all  in  purest  white,  with  diamonds  glittering 
on  neck  and  arms,  and  gleaming  warmly  amongst  the  soft 
masses  of  her  lovely  hair.  Mrs.  Verulam  stood  beside  her, 
and  together  they  advanced  up  the  room  ;  stopping  now  and 
again  as  the  former  paused  to  introduce  Lady  Wriothesley 
to  one  or  two  people  of  importance. 

Marvel  was  looking  intensely  lovely,  and  showed  the 
terrible  nervousness  that  was  consuming  her  only  by  the 
increasing  pallor  that  marked  her  face.  She  was  drawing 
near  the  corner  where  Mrs.  Scarlett  sat,  and  a  little  hush 
had  fallen  upon  the  people  there.  Mrs.  Scarlett  herself 
was  leaning  forward,  forgetful  of  everything  but  her  anxiety 
to  get  a  nearer  view  of  the  girl,  of  whose  face  she  had 
caught  a  faint  glimpse  between  the  moving  forms  of  the 
dancers.  Then  there  was  a  moment  when  she  stood  clearly 
revealed,  and  Mrs.  Scarlett,  as  she  saw  her,  grew  curiously 
still,  her  breath  coming  from  her  like- a  long-drawn  sigh. 

Some  awful  fascination  kept  her  eyes  fixed  on  Marvel — 
and  then — what  was  it  ?  Was  she  going  to  faint  ?  She 


MARVEL.  Ill 

swayed  a  little  and  then  recovered  herself  with  a  sharp 
effort.  That  lovely  face  over  there.  What  other  face  did 
it  resemble?  What  horrible  thing  was  this  that  rcse  before 
her,  and  cried  aloud,  "At  last — at  last — at  last  !'  ;n  tones 
that  would  not  be  stifled.  Was  all  this  madness  ? — cr  what  ? 

She  leaned  farther  forward  and  positively  glared  at  the 
girl  standing,  pale  and  tranquil,  and  unconscious,  until 
one  near  her  remarked  the  intensity  of  her  gaze,  and  lightly 
touched  her  on  the  arm  with  a  lighter  jest.  She  recovered 
herself  then,  but  her  face  remained  pallid  as  the  dead. 
Thus  fair  and  tranquil  had  that  figure  stood  out  from  the 
surrounding  darkness  in  her  dream.  It  all  came  back  to 
her  now  !  and  with  it  a  strange  sense  that  fate  was  crushing 
down  upon  her,  that  seemed  to  paralyze  her  limbs ;  she 
made  a  vehement  struggle  to  overcome  her  emotion,  and 
after  a  while  succeeded.  But  the  weary  pain  in  her  side  that 
was  beginning  to  torment  her  day  and  night  grew  stronger 
because  of  this  effort,  and  she  leant  languidly  back  in  her 
chair,  hardly  deigning  to  answer  those  who  spoke  to  her. 

Marvel  unconsciously  was  creating  a  sensation.  Her 
strange  romantic  wedding  was,  of  course,  town-talk,  and 
now  everybody,  more  or  less,  was  discussing  her  merits  and 
demerits.  So  this  was  the  little  waif,  the  stray  that 
Wriothesley  had  married  !  No  one  knew  who  she  was.  A 
mere  nobody,  nay,  in  all  probability,  worse  than  a  nobody. 
Of  course,  that  sort  of  thing  never  did.  Here  was  she  now 
irretrievably  bound  to  him,  but  where  was  he  ?  It  was  one 
of  the  most  unfortunate  things  that  had  happened  to  a 
young  man  of  position  for  a  very  long  time.  All  this  from 
the  women.  The  men  were  more  lenient ;  they  could  see, 
and  acknowledge,  that  at  all  events  she  was  unspeakably 
beautiful,  and  allowed  there  was  every  excuse  for  even  so 
rash  a  marriage.  But  how  account  for  his  long  absence  ? 
That  puzzled  them,  even  more  than  the  women,  who  were 
not  so  willing  to  admit  her  charms. 

Mrs.  Verulam  was  faithful  to  Marvel,  and  kept  her  beside 
her  without  appearing  to  do  so,  knowing  well  how  unstrung 
she  was,  and  how  unequal  to  the  carrying  on  of  light  con- 
versation with  those  around  her  in  her  present  mood.  But 
after  a  while  she  began  to  be  besieged  with  entreaties  for 


H2  MAEVEL. 

an  introduction  to  Lady  Wriothesley,  who  already,  even  at 
this  early  stage  of  her  appearance  in  public,  was  becoming 
the  rage.  Lady  Lucy  Verulam,  too,  was  delighted  with 
her.  This  was  not  one  of  Cicely's  absurd  swans  who  in- 
variably turned  out  geese,  but  a  real,  bond,  fide  rara  avis. 
Unquestionably  she  would  be  the  new  beauty,  and  as  it  is* 
always  politic  to  be  on  good  terms  with  a  rising  star,  she 
made  herself  amazingly  civil. 

But  presently  Marvel  moved  away  to  get  through  a  square 
dance  with  the  duke,  feeling  secretly  shy  and  uncertain, 
and  yet  half  longing  to  join  the  gay  dancing  circle  without, 
and  Mrs.  Verulam,  finding  herself  alone,  turned  instantly 
upon  her  sister-in-law,  whom  she  had  not  had  the  chance 
of  scolding  before. 

"  My  dear  Lucy,  how  could 'you  have  asked  Mrs.  Scarlett," 
she  said  in  a  highly  aggrieved  tone. 

"  My  dear  creature,  why  not  ?  "  returned  Lady  Lucy,  a 
large  handsome  florid  woman  of  about  forty-five,  whose 
manners,  although  she  was  the  third  daughter  of  a  marquis, 
could  scarcely  be  termed  her  strong  point.  She  was  not 
exactly  ill-natured,  but  she  was  capable  of  doing  or  saying 
a  hurtful  thing  now  and  again. 

"  When  I  gave  you  leave  to  ask  here  whom  you  would  to 
please  yourself,  I  certainly  did  think  you  would  have  re- 
membered that  Lady  Wriothesley  was  likely  to  be  one  of 
my  party." 

"  Well,  so  I  did.  I  recollected  it  perfectly ;  that  was 
why  I  asked  Leonie.  In  the  dull  season,  when  the  men 
think  of  nothing  but  their  bags,  any  little  excitement  be- 
comes desirable ;  and  a  meeting  between  those  two  ought 
to  have  something  of  the  tragic  in  it.  By-the-by,  it  hasn't 
come  off  yet,  has  it  ?  I  should  be  sorry  to  miss  it." 

"  I  wish  you  would  arrange  for  your  little  excitements  to 
come  off  in  somebody  else's  house.  I  shall  not  have 
Marvel  subjected  to  anything  of  the  kind.  She  is  not  of 
the  common  clay  one  meets  always,  and  I  don't  care  to  see 
her  annoyed.  Considering  all  that  has  occurred  between 
Mrs.  Scarlett  and  Wriothesley,  her  being  here  now  is  awk- 
ward, to  say  the  least  of  it." 

"  Nonsense.      If  every  woman   of  vour  acquaintance 


MAEVEL.  113 

objected  to  meet  the  other  woman  with  whom  her  husband 
is,  or  was,  in  love,  there  would  be  precious  little  visiting 
going  on  anywhere,  I  take  it.  And,  besides,  Lady 
Wriothesley,  so  far  as  I  can  judge,  is  far  from  stupid." 

"You  judge  very  correctly.  She  is,  on  the  contrary, 
cleverer  than  most,  and  has  been  educated  to  quite  a  pitch. 
She  has  an  exquisite  voice — not  powerful,  but  purest  music 
all  through.  With  regard  to  Mrs.  Scarlett,  however,  your 
argument  about  others'  feelings  is  nothing  to  me.  I  care 
only  that  Marvel  should  not  be  hurt,  and  that  woman  is 
capable  of  anything." 

"  Short  of  suicide,"  said  Lady  Lucy  laughing.  "  She'll 
never  hurt  herself.  I  say,  did  you  see  the  glance  she  cast 
at  the  little  one  as  she  came  up  the  room  ?  It  was  a  play 
in  itself — a  play  of  feature  certainly.  Already  she  could 
eat  her,  seeing  herself  virtually  dethroned.  Rawdon  told 
me  she  was  frantic  when  she  first  heard  of  Wriothesley's 
marriage.  It  appears  she  knew  nothing  of  it  until  after  the 
old  duke's  death,  which  must  have  piled  up  the  agony  a 
bit  To  be  a  countess  would  have  been  a  come  down,  but 
it  would  have  been  better  than  the  nothing  that  it  now  is." 
She  chuckled  to  herself  again,  and  then  :  "  I  wonder  how 
she  escaped  hearing  of  it  ?  " 

"  Nobody  heard  of  it  until  weeks  had  gone  by.  It  was  a 
hurried  affair,  and  their  starting  in  the  yacht  directly  after 
— the  very  afternoon  of  the  wedding  in  fact — made 
Wriothesley  forget  to  put  it  in  the  papers.  It  must  have 
been  rather  a  shock  to  her ;  but  I  really  grudge  her  nothing. 
She  behaved  shamefully  to  him." 

"  Kindly,  /  think,"  said  Lady  Lucy,  with  a  faint  yawn. 
"  She  would  have  made  a  truly  odious  cousin,  though  a 
possible  companion.  I  for  one  should  never  have  forgiven 
her,"  with  a  shrug  of  her  ample  shoulders  that  signified  dis- 
taste for  Mrs.  Scarlett,  though  she  professed  herself  to  be 
the  latter's  bosom  friend.  "  She  can  be  as  nasty  as  any 
one  I  know  when  the  moment  suits  her.  By-the-by,  does 
Marvel  know  about  her  and  Wriothesley  ?  " 

"  I  am  quite  certain  she  does  not." 

"  That  is  bad  for  your  friend,"  said  Lady  Lucy.  "  Leonie 
is  not  likely  to  let  her  go  without  a  sting  or  two." 


II4  MARVEL. 

"  That  is  why  I  am  so  distressed  at  her  being  here.  Now 
she  has  come  I  am  of  course  bound  to  be  civil,  but  I  warn 
you  I  shall  defend  Marvel  at  all  risks ;  and  I  agree  with 
you  that  that  woman  is  not  to  be  trusted ;  she  will  not 
respect  that  poor  child's  innocence,  but  will  say  something 
that  will  explain  the  whole  unhappy  story  to  her." 

"  And  so  put  her  in  '  a  tender  taking '  ?  Well,  I 
shouldn't  wonder ; "  said  Lady  Lucy.  "  I  know  the  languid 
Leonie  as  well  as  most,  and  it  seems  to  me  a  likelj^  thing 
that  she  should  seek  to  make  that  child's  life  a  burden  to 
her,  if  only  for  the  sake  of  dear  revenge.  Therefore,  a 
word  to  you,  Cicely ;  forestall  Mrs.  Scarlett  in  her  com- 
munication— I  mean,  have  the  first  of  it ;  in  that  way  you 
will  take  the  edge  off  the  knife.  Tell  Marvel  yourself  ot 
that  old  attachment  of  Wriothesley's — which  I  rather  fancy 
is  still  alive — and  put  her  on  her  guard.  That  is  the  truest 
friendship  you  can  show  her.  And  positively  I  begin  to 
think  she  has  bewitched  even  me,  case-hardened  as  I  am, 
with  those  pretty  looks  of  hers,  or  I  should  not  be  now 
lecturing  you  as  to  her  defence.  You  will  tell  her  ?  " 

"I  really — I — that  is Well,  I  really  don't  believe  I 

could,"  said    Mrs.   Verulam,  as  if  half  ashamed  of  this 
sudden  weakness. 

"  Well,  if  you  can't,  I  warn  you  that  presently  there  will 
be  a  most  unlovely  row  somewhere,"  said  her  sister-in-law 
with  lazy  warmth.  "  To  be  as  old  as  you,  Cicely,  and  so 
wanting  in  strength  of  mind,  is  deplorable." 

"  I'm  not  so  very  old,  if  it  comes  to  that,"  said  Mrs. 
Verulam ;  "  and  I  need  not  be  put  on  the  shelf  altogether 
simply  because  I  am  the  widow  of  a  man  whom " 

"You  detested,  even  as  heartily  as  I  did,"  concluded 
Lady  Lucy  agreeably.  "  Quite  so.  You  are  not  on  the 
shelf  at  all,  my  dear,  and  I  shall  probably  hear  of  your 
second  marriage  some  day ;  but  in  the  meantime  do  your 
duty  and  warn  your  pretty  friend  of  what  lies  in  her  path. 
I  d  do  it ;  but  Leonie  might  take  it  badly  if  she  heard  of  it, 
and  as  yet  she  is  useful  to  me  :  she  fills  my  rooms.  By- 
and-by  Marvel  will  fill  them  better  and  then " 

"  You  are  the  most  candidly  false  person  I  ever  met,' 
said  Cicely,  looking  at  her  with  something  akin  to  admira. 


MARVEL.  115 

tion.  "When  thinking  of  you,  I  always  feel  you  would  sell 
me  for  sixpence,  if  the  gaining  of  that  small  coin  would  do 
you  any  good." 

"You  are  candidly  frank"  said  Lady  Lucy  smiling — 
she  was  quite  unmoved  by  the  other's  outburst  — "  which  is 
another  way  of  saying  you  are  abominably  rude;  but  I 
prefer  that  sort  of  thing  to — the  other.  Sweets  pall,  espe- 
cially when  you  know  they  are  hollow.  And  after  all  I 
wouldn't  sell  you,  Cicely,  for  anything  less  than — a  crown." 
She  laughed  in  the  soft  fat  way  that  belongs  to  fat  women. 
"  A  sixpence  is  a  paltry  thing,  and  fetches  very  little.  You 
will  speak  to  Marvel  ?  " 

"  I  shall  have  to  think  about  it  first." 

"  Think  hard,  then,  until  you  come  to  my  view  of  the 
case ;  though  one  shouldn't  be  quite  down  on  Leonie  at 
present.  Did  you  hear  that  she  is  ill — suffering  ?  " 

"  No." 

"  She  is.  Something  internal.  I  worried  that  much  out 
of  old  Grainger  when  he  came  to  see  if  the  pimple  on  the 
baby's  nose  meant  scarlatina  or  small  pox.  It  was  neither, 
as  it  happened.  Yes,  she  is  really  ill ;  but  she  won't  give 
in  to  it.  Something  about  the  heart,  I  imagine,  that  may 
carry  her  off  at  any  moment." 

"  How  dreadful ! "  said  Mrs.  Verulam ;  but  she  did  not 
seem  to  care  much.  She  had  begun  to  think  again  of 
Marvel.  Was  she  alone,  or  distressed,  or  in  want  of  her  ? 
She  was  astonished  at  her  own  affection  for  the  girl,  and 
started  off  in  search  of  her. 


CHAPTER  XX. 
**Of  dreams  now  dwelling  where  dead  roses  dwell.  * 

AT  one  of  the  doorways  she  encountered  a  tall,  lanky  man 
of  about  thirty-five,  with  a  thoughtful,  kindly  face,  who 
ventured  to  lay  his  hand  upon  her  lovely  naked  arm. 

"  Whither  away  so  fast  ?  "  said  he.  He  looked  at  her. 
He  had  a  most  genial  smile.  "  Surely  you  can  spare  me  a 
second  to  bid  me  welcome,  though  late  in  the  day  ?  " 

8— a 


n6  MAKVEL. 

"  Nay,  early,"  retorted  she,  pointing  to  a  clock  in  the 
hall  outside,  whose  hands  stood  at  two ;  "  but  you  are 
welcome,  nevertheless,  at  any  hour,  any  time." 

Her  expressive  face  had  grown  very  bright,  and  a  little 
gleam  had  come  into  her  eyes. 

"  I  never  thought  you  could  have  come  ;  that  card  I  sent 
anticipated  no  such  reply  as  your  presence  here." 

"  I  should  have  stayed  away,  it  seems  to  me.  Yet  it 
is  unlike  you  to  be  so  chary  of  gracious  words.  How  have 
I  offended  your  majesty  ?  " 

"  How  have  you  gratified  me,  rather !  I  believed  you  in 
Rotterdam,  yet  here  you  are,  and  you  know  all  old  friends 
are  dear  to  me." 

"  A  detestable  remark  !  What  am  I  among  so  many  ? 
Rotterdam  is  not  a  spot  to  hanker  after,  yet  truly  I  would 
wish  myself  there  now." 

"  Great  men  must  be  forgiven  their  little  fibs,"  said  Mrs. 
Verulam  saucily,  "  and  since  the  papers  have  been  adminis- 
tering to  you  doses  of  flattery  on  your  scientific  researches, 
one  hardly  dares  to  question  any  word  of  yours ;  yet  I  am 
loath  to  believe  you  would  rather  be  in  Rotterdam  than 
here." 

"  Yet  you  know  why  I  went  to  Rotterdam  ?  " 

"  You  can  be  dull  as  well  as  the  most  of  them,  in  spite  of 
your  learning,"  said  she  pettishly,  and  turned  away ;  but  he 
followed  her. 

"  There,  I  was  wrong.  If  we  can't  be  more,  let  us  at 
least  be  friends,"  said  he  with  a  resignation  of  himself  to 
circumstances  that  somehow  nettled  her.  Just  at  this 
moment,  however,  a  little  man  with  a  bald  appearance  and 
a  humorous  eye  came  up  to  her. 

"  I've  been  looking  for  you  everywhere,"  he  11' d.  "  How 
d'ye  do,  Townshend.  I  thought  you  had  gom«  off  to  ihe 
happy  hunting  grounds  of  Northern  America  with  Wriothes- 
ley  and  that  lot.  Oh  !  by  the  way,  Mrs.  Verulam,  what  did 
you  mean  by  hiding  away  Lady  Wriothesley  from  us  all  this 
time,  and  then  letting  her  burst  upon  us  without  a  word  of 
warning.  I  daresay  it  is  actionable.  '  Fellows  like  me,  with 
weak  action  of  the  heart,  might  go  off  at  any  moment  if 
subjected  to  a  sudden  shock,  ..and  such  charms  as  hers  ! 


MAKVEL.  117 

Have  you  seen  her,  Townshend  ?  This  new  beauty  who  will 
eclipse  all  other  lights  ?  No?  Steel  your  heart,  then,  for 
there  is  something  very  special  about  her  I  can  tell  you." 

"  My  heart  is  cased  with  iron  bands,"  said  Sir  George, 
and  with  a  slight  salutation  to  Mrs.  Verulam  he  turned 
aside.  So  did  Mrs.  Verulam  instantly,  in  the  other  direc- 
tion. 

"  I  say,  don't  all  go  at  once,"  exclaimed  Mr.  Kitts  in  an 
aggrieved  tone.  "  Here  I  thought  I  was  surely  in  for  a  little 
sensible  conversation  with  you  two,  and  just  as  I  begin  you 
both  give  me  the  cold  shoulder.  It  isn't  nice,  you  know. 
'Tisn't  kind.  You  are  a  very  Solomon  amongst  men,  we  all 
know,  Townshend,  but  to  turn  your  back  on  a  friend,  how- 
ever great  a  poor  fool  he  may  be,  shows  no  wisdom.  And 
you,  Mrs.  Verulam,  are  you  looking  for  anything  ?  " 

"  I'm  looking  for  my  new  baby,"  said  Mrs.  Verulam 
laughing,  "  that  same  paragon  of  beauty  you  were  lauding 
to  the  skies  just  now.  She  doesn't  know  her  way  about 
quite  yet,  and  I'm  bound  to  look  after  her.  She  is  only 
just  out  of  her  long  clothes,  and  can't  run  alone  without  my 
help.  Hitherto  she  has  resided  on  an  immaculate  solitude, 
in  the  bosom  of  a  deserted  village.  This  is  her  first  insight 
into  a  frivolous  society  such  as  we  live  and  breathe,  and 
have  our  being  in ;  her  first  glimpse  at  the  '  lights  o' 
London,'  as  represented  by — you  and  Sir  George." 

"  Consider  me  withered  ! "  said  Mr.  Kitts  in  a  low  des 
pendent  tone.  "  And  yet  how  have  I  deserved  this  !  And 
to  put  me  before  Sir  George  !  There  was  a  depth  of  cruelty 
in  that  hardly  to  be  fathomed." 

"  Never  mind,"  said  Sir  George,  who  was  annoyed  by  the 
little  mocking  glance  she  had  cast  at  him,  "  I  believe,  of  we 
two,  you  are  by  far  the  cleverer  man." 

He  pointed  this  remark  by  a  look  at  Mrs.  Verulam,  warm 
with  reproach,  and  then  left  her. 

"  It's  such  a  mistake  to  eat  things  that  don't  agree  with 
one,  isn't  it  ?  "  said  Mr.  Kitts,  a  propos  of  nothing  appa- 
rently, but  Mrs.  Verulam  wisely  refrained  from  asking  his 
meaning. 

Meantime  Marvel,  who  had  been  dancing  with  other  and 
younger  people  than  the  duke,  had  stopped  near  a  conser- 


ii8  MARVEL. 

vatory  door  to  collect  her  breath  and  her  thoughts.  She 
was  amazed  at  her  own  sensations.  Only  that  morning  she 
had  looked  with  horror  on  the  thought  of  being  dragged 
from  her  dear  seclusion  to  the  warm  lights  of  notoriety. 
Yet  now,  she  was — yes,  she  could  not  deny  it,  enjoying 
herself  intensely.  She  had  let  herself  go,  as  it  were,  and 
with  all  the  ardour  of  youth  was  entering  into  her  dances 
with  a  verve,  a  delight,  that  lit  her  lovely  eyes  and  made 
her  ten  times  more  charming  than  when  she  entered  the 
room  an  hour  ago. 

Now,  every  one  was  talking  of  her.  Lady  Lucy  was  going 
about  making  noisy  sonnets  in  her  praise,  and  many  of  the 
women,  following  her  lead,  some  from  prudential  motives 
and  some  from  honest  conviction,  were  saying  all  sorts 
of  pretty  things  about  her. 

The  heroine  of  all  this  admiration  was  at  the  present 
moment  feeling  a  little  pleasant  fatigue.  She  moved  back- 
wards into  the  conservatory  near,  and  listened  with  an 
appreciative  ear  to  the  suggestion  of  her  partner  that  he 
should  go  and  get  her  an  ice.  He  sped  swiftly  on  his 
errand,  and  Marvel  moved  a  little  farther  inland  to  find 
some  seat  whereon  to  rest  herself. 

A  soft  and  downy  couch  attracted  her  eye ;  she  went 
quickly  towards  it,  but  half  way  there  she  saw  something 
that  attracted  her  even  more.  This  was  a  tall  dark  young 
man  with  eager  eyes,  who  was  leaning  against  a  wall. 

As  she  saw  him  she  started  slightly,  but  perceptibly. 
Where  had  she  last  seen  him  ?  What  past  picture  did  his 
presence  conjure  up  ?  She  was  here,  it  was  true,  in  sober 
England,  and  yet  she  was  there  too,  far  away  in  the  sunny 
south,  gazing  out  of  the  window  of  a  railway  carriage  with 
all  her  heart  in  her  eyes.  Once  again  Wriothesley  stood 
before  her,  as  on  that  day  when  they  had  parted.  He  was 
talking  to  her  kindly  words  that  showed  her  how  real  was 
his  anxiety  for  her  comfort  on  the  journey  that  would 
separate  her  from  him,  perhaps  for  ever.  All  round  her 
were  the  flowers,  the  fruit,  the  books  he  had  procured  for 
her  to  beguile  the  time ;  evidences,  each  of  them  of  the 
care  he  had  lavished  on  her.  She  could  hear  once  more 
his  words  of  gentle  inquiry,  could  see  his  friendly  smile ; 


MARVEL.  119 

all  these  indeed  he  had  given  her — all,  save  that  one  thing 
which  she  alone  craved — his  love  ! 

Tears  dimmed  her  eyes  as  she  looked  at  the  stranger,- 
who  had  called  to  life  these  remembrances  that  were  better 
dead.  Surely,  it  was  he  who  had  been  in  the  carriage  with 
her  on  that  eventful  day,  and  who,  during  the  short  time  he 
had  travelled  with  her,  had  been  so  courteously  desirous  ot 
saving  her  from  every  small  discomfort.  An  impulsive  desire 
to  speak  to  him  was  strong  within  her,  but  she  controlled  it, 
why  she  hardly  knew,  and  with  a  rather  nervous  bearing 
seated  herself  on  the  lounge  she  had  first  looked  at  As 
she  did  so  her  fan  fell  from  her  hand,  and  rattled  upon  the 
stone  flooring.  The  young  man  came  swiftly,  yet  leisurely, 
forward,  picked  it  up,  and  with  a  low  bow  presented  it  to 
her.  As  she  took  it  their  eyes  met.  and  there  was  so  much 
humble  entreaty,  mingled  with  so  flattering  a  deference  in 
his  whole  air,  that  Marvel  gave  room  to  the  natural  gracious- 
ness  within  her,  and  determined  at  all  risks  to  give  him  a 
gentle  word. 

"  Thank  you.  It  is  not  the  first  service  you  have  done 
me,  I  think,"  she  said  very  shyly  and  very  sweetly. 

His  whole  manner  changed  at  once,  and  the  dark  beauty 
of  his  face  brightened  with  a  smile. 

"  How  good  of  you,"  he  exclaimed  softly,  yet  eagerly, 
"  to  remember  me — to  acknowledge  me !  It  is  more  than 
I  dared  hope  for.  I  have  dreamt  of  such  a  moment  as 
this  in  all  the  past  measureless  year,  but  how  seldom  dreams 
so  bright  are  realized." 

There  was  a  suppressed  vehemence  in  his  manner  that 
should  have  warned  her,  but  she  was  so  ignorant  of  love- 
making  in  all  its  variations  that  she  missed  the  core  of  his 
speech.  So  he  seemed  only  kind.  A  little  extravagantly 
so,  considering  how  small  had  been  her  acquaintance  wilh 
him,  but  still  kind. 

"  I  wonder  you  remembered  me,"  she  said  smiling  at  him, 
though  still  somewhat  shy  in  look  and  tone.  "  They  tell 
me  this  last  year  has  greatly  changed  me." 

"  They  tell  you  true.  Yet  I  should  have  known  you  any- 
where. You  are  changed  in  so  far,  that "  He  hesitated 

as  if  finding  a  difficulty  in  going  on  with  those  large  limpid 


[20  MAKVEL. 

eyes  fixed  on  his.  A  florid  compliment  to  the  owner  of 
those  clear  orbs  would  be  almost  a  cruelty.  "  You  are  stay- 
ing here  ?  "  he  asked  with  some  abruptness. 

"  Yes,  for  a  time  at  least.  Mrs.  Verulam  is  my  cousin." 
By  marriage  she  did  not  say.  She  never  thought  of  her  in 
that  wise. 

"  And  my  very  good  friend.  We  have  known  each  other 
for  years,  as  my  home  is  only  two  miles  from  this.  If  you 
ask  her  about  me,"  smiling,  "  she  will  vouch  for  me." 

"  Not  if  I  do  not  give  her  your  name,"  with  a  swift 
glance. 

"  A  thousand  pardons,"  said  he.    "  My  name  is  Savage." 

"  Mr.  Savage  ?  " 

"  Yes.  I've  a  father  still  somewhere,"  said  he  carelessly. 
She  was  a  little  shocked  by  his  tone,  which  contained  a 
distinct  sneer,  and  she  wondered  vaguely  if  he  wished  his 
father  dead  because  of  the  title  he  would  evidently  inherit, 
or  if  he  and  his  father  were  on  such  bad  terms  that  no  love 
was  to  be  felt  or  expressed  between  them.  Oh  !  if  only 
she  had  had  a  father !  Instinctively  she  raised  her  hand 
and  felt  for  the  battered  locket  she  always  wore,  hidden  in 
her  breast,  and  wondered  in  a  vague  sad  manner  if  such  a 
tender  name  could  be  given  by  her  to  the  handsome  face 
within  it.  Lost  in  this  waking  dream  she  half  forgot  the 
man  beside  her  until  a  direct  question  from  him  recalled 
her  to  the  present. 

"  I  can  recollect  how  sorry  you  were  to  leave  your  friend 

that  day "  he  was  saying,  with  deliberate  intent  to  learn. 

"  He  was  a  friend  ?  " 

He  asked  the  question  with  as  much  unconcern  as  he 
could  muster,  yet  he  was  curiously  anxious  to  learn  if  the 
man  who  had  parted  from  her  so  easily,  and  for  whom  she 
had  felt  so  sincere  a  regret,  was  her  friend  or  her  brother 
or  what.  That  he  could  be  the  husband  of  the  childish 
creature  who  sat  weeping  on  the  opposite  seat  had  never 
entered  his.  head. 

"  A  friend  ?  I  hope  so, "  replied  she  slowly.  The  ques- 
tion startled  her  a  little.  Was  Wriothesley  her  friend  ?  In 
the  old  sweet  days  he  had  been  her  best,  her  truest  friend, 
but  after  that  sad  mistaken  marriage She  didn't 


MARVEL.  121 

know.  She  could  only  "  hope  "  so  now — she  was  no  longer 
sure. 

"  Have  you  seen  him  since  ?  "  asked  Savage  in  the  same 
deliberate  way.  He  knew  he  was  unpardonably  rude,  but 
he  could  not  conquer  his  devouring  longing  to  know. 

"  Lord  Wriothesley  ?  No.  He  has  been  abroad  ever 
since,"  said  she  simply,  if  a  little  curtly.  It  was  always  an 
embarrassment  to  her  to  speak  of  him,  though  the  mention 
of  his  name  suggested  nothing  to  Savage,  who  had  been 
too  long  out  of  England  himself  to  be  au  fait  with  any  of 
the  current  gossip ;  and  had  in  fact  only  returned  to  it 
about  a  week  ago. 

"  It  was  a  strange  fancy,  perhaps,  of  mine,"  said  he, 
looking  straight  at  her,  and  with  a  rather  regulated  smile, 
"  but  on  that  day  when  I  saw  the  parting  between  you,  I 
imagined  he  was  your  brother.  One  forms  ideas  of  that 
sort,  you  know,  almost  unconsciously.  I  was  wrong  ?  " 

"Yes.  I  am  not  his  sister."  She  hesitated,  as  if  she 
would  have  said  more,  but  hardly  knew  how  to  frame  her 
sentence.  He  was  too  much  absorbed  with  the  bafflement 
to  notice  the  shade  of  trouble  that  crossed  her  face.  Was 
he  never  to  know  ? 

"  I  should  of  course  have  known  that.  No  faintest  like- 
ness was  there,  to  help  me  to  my  false  belief.  Yet,  though 
older  than  you  in  a  great  degree,  he  was  yet  not  old  enough 
to  be  your  father  or  your  uncle.  That  was  how  the  mistake 
arose  I  daresay.  I  fixed  on  brother,  very  elder  brother 
of  course,  as  the  real  thing  ;  but  it  seems  he  was  not 
that  ?  " 

He  felt  that  he  was  daring  a  good  deal,  even  her  con- 
tempt, but  the  overpowering  desire  to  settle  this  matter 
once  for  all,  drove  him  on. 

"Lord  Wriothesley  is  my  husband  !"  replied  she,  with 
a  certain  gentle  dignity,  though  her  face  grew  white. 

Savage  stared  at  her,  forgetful  of  all  decorum.  Her  hus- 
band !  She  was  married  !  This  innocent-eyed  child  !  Good 
heavens,  what  a  blank  ending  to  as  real  a  romance  as  was 
ever  commenced  !  A  sense  of  general  loss,  a  vacuum 
everywhere,  oppressed  him  for  one  deadly  moment,  and 
then  he  knew  he  should  have  to  rouse  himself  and  take 


122  MAEVEL. 

things  as  they  were,  not  as  they  should  be  if  he  had 
had  the  regulating  of  circumstances. 

"  He  is  to  be  envied,"  he  said  with  a  little  society  smile 
and  bow,  and  then  Lady  Wriothesley's  partner  arriving 
with  the  promised  ice,  he  bowed  again,  and  slipped  away 
into  an  adjoining  room,  where  he  came  face  to  face  with 
his  hostess. 

"Seen  a  ghost,  Nigel?"  asked  she  somewhat  caustic- 
ally ;  she  was  not  in  her  prettiest  mood.  "  You  look  dazed 
enough  for  anything.  But — I'm  sorry  to  spoil  the  idea — 
there  isn't  anything  half  so  respectable  as  a  '  walking  gentle- 
man' in  this  house." 

"  It  was  a  lady,"  said  he  with  a  partially  developed  smile. 
.  "  Mrs.  Scarlett  ?  She  is  the  nearest  thing  I  know  to  it, 
to-night." 

"  Wrong.  My  spirit  is  of  a  more  heavenly  type.  I  did 
not  know  you  had  a  cousin,  and  such  a  cousin,  as  Lady 
Wriothesley ! " 

"  Is  that  it  ?  "  said  she.  "  But  I  forbid  raptures.  She 
is  forbidden  goods,  you  know — sour  grapes.  And  she  is 
not  my  cousin  after  all." 

"  She  said  she  was " 

"  And  such  lips  could  utter  no  untruth  !  Well,  you  are 
only  just  there,"  relenting  as  she  thought  of  Marvel; 
"they  could  not.  Her  husband  is  my  cousin,  not  she, 
worse  luck  for  me.  But  I  suppose  she  regards  it  as  being 
all  the  same  thing ;  it  is,  I  feel,  very  good  of  her.  No 
one  could  object  to  her  as  a  cousin,  could  they  ?  You 
wouldn't  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  should.  I  should  object  to  her  in  any  light  but 
one,"  said  he.  His  laugh  was  so  curious  that  Mrs.  Verulam 
looked  closely  at  him. 

"  I  hope  you  aren't  going  to  be  nonsensical,"  she  said. 
"  If  you  are,  I  may  as  well  say  at  once  that  Marvel  is  not 
a  person  to  be  regarded  in  that  light.  You  had  better  go 
abroad  again,  or  fling  yourself  into  the  nearest  river,  if  you 
think  you  have  lost  your  heart  to  her." 

"  Well,  to  tell  you  the  truth,  I  was  thinking  of  the  river 
just  now,"  said  he.  "  But  I  am  such  an  unfortunately  good 
swiramer,  and  one  might  strike  out  perhaps,  one  doesn't 


MARVEL.  123 

know.     As  to  the  going  abroad  theory,  that  never  holds 
water.      One's  thoughts  and  memories  can  go  abroad  too," 
"  What  am  I  to  understand  by  all  that  ?  " 
"That  I  am  coming  to  see  you  to-morrow." 
"  Well,    your  blood  be  on  your  own  head,"  said   she. 
"  When  you  are  as  miserable  as  man  can  be,  don't  blame 
me." 

"  What  am  I  to  understand  by  that  9  "  demanded  he  in 
turn. 

"That  Lady  Wriothesley  is  that  foolish  thing,  a  woman 
in  love  with  her  own  husband ! " 

But  Savage  had  seen  the  sudden  pallor  that  had 
overspread  the  young  face  when  Marvel  had  spoken  of 
Wriothesley  as  her  husband,  and  had  drawn  therefrom  his 
own  conclusions.  Later  on,  too,  he  dropped  a  casual 
question  to  an  old  acquaintance  of  his,  a  colonel  of 
dragoons  and  an  inveterate  gossip,  who  in  reply  put  him 
in  possession  of  a  highly-coloured  version  of  the  "  Wrio- 
thesley affair,"  as  he,  the  colonel,  called  it — a  version  that 
proved  those  already  formed  conclusions  only  too  correct  1 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

"When  grief  about  me  clings 
Through  fortune's  fit  or  fume  of  jealousy, 
Your  sweet  kind  eye  beats  down  her  threatening! 
As  wind  doth  smoke." 

IT  was  very  late  that  night,  or  rather  early  in  the  morning, 
when  Mrs.  Verulam  pushed  open  the  door  of  Marvel's 
room,  and  with  a  soft  little  apology  entered  it. 

"  Not  in  bed  yet,  I  hope  ?  No  ?  Then  I  am  in  luck.  I 
have  so  many  things  to  think  about  that  I  cannot  do  it  all 
by  myself,  and  so  I  have  come  to  you.  I  was  so  afraid  I 
should  find  you  in  the  middle  of  your  beauty  sleep — not 
that  you  vant  it,  you  should  make  over  such  unnecessary 
things  to  those  who  really  require  them — a  sort  of  national 
bequest !  I  tried  my  best  to  come  sooner,  sparing  neither 


124  MARVEL. 

hints  nor  yawns,  but  Lucy  is  a  person  not  to  be  easily 
routed.  She  stayed  until  she  had  finished  her  last  dull 
word.  She  is  in  love  with  you,  however,  so  I  forgive  her 
her  many  sins." 

"  Lady  Lucy  ?  "  said  Marvel,  opening  her  eyes. 

"  Actually  Lady  Lucy  !  You  are  a  little  witch,  I  think, 
Marvel ;  you  have  cast  a  spell  over  most  of  us,  but  you  must 
be  careful — there  is  a  certain  class  of  people  whom  it  is 
always  awkward  to  bring  to  one's  feet."  She  spoke  mean- 
ingly, watching  Marvel  as  she  spoke,  but  the  girl  remained 
supremely  unconscious. 

"  Is  Lady  Lucy  one  of  them  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  Far  from  it.  It  is  wisdom  to  captivate  her.  A  woman 
with  a  tongue  is  a  bad  foe,  and  one  hard  to  beat." 

"  Is  it  Mrs.  Scarlett,  then  ?  " 

"  After  all,  I  don't  believe  I  meant  anything,"  said  Cicely, 
sitting  down  upon  the  hearth-rug  and  proceeding  to  build 
up  the  already  brilliant  fire  with  bits  of  wood  and  coal.  She 
was  looking  very  sweet  and  dainty  in  her  loose  gown  of 
white  lace  and  cachemire,  and  made  a  contrast  to  Marvel, 
who  was  still  in  her  'satin  gown  and  diamonds,  and  who  had 
not  even  taken  off  her  long  wrinkled  gloves. 

"  Why,  you  are  not  undressed,"  said  Mrs.  Verulam  sud- 
denly. "  What  have  you  been  thinking  about  ?  Now  that 
I  look  at  you  I  can  see  that  you  have  been  at  your  dreams 
again.  I  wish  you  wouldn't.  I  know  he  isn't  worth  it." 

"  I  haven't  been  thinking  so  much  of  Fulke,"  said  Marvel 
mournfully,  "as  of  Mrs.  Scarlett."  Cicely  started;  the 
conjunction  of  names  was,  to  say  the  least  of  it,  a 
singular  one.  Had  she  heard  anything?  She  looked  at 
Marvel  searchingly,  to  find  the  girl  was  looking  at  her  with 
a  very  troubled  expression  in  her  eyes.  "Cicely,"  she 
said,  "  Mrs.  Scarlett  hates  me  1 " 

Cicely  laughed. 

"Well,  what  did  you  expect?"  she  said ;  "  you  should  have 
been  prepared  for  that." 

"  But  why  ?  What  have  I  done  to  her  ?  Do  you  know  ? 
It  is  foolish,  perhaps,  but  I  can't  bear  people  to  dislike 
me,  and  no  one  has  ever  hated  me  before.  At  least  I — I 
hope,  I  think  not."  She  sighed  deeply.  "  When  a  person 


MAKVEL.  125 

was  in  another  person's  way,  did  that  other  person  hate 
one  ?  "  This  lucid  conundrum  she  proposed  to  herself,  but 
found  no  answer  to  it.  Perhaps  it  was  too  deep  !  "  How 
have  I  injured  her?"  she  went  on  out  aloud,  alluding 
again  to  Mrs.  Scarlett. 

"You  have  committed  the  unpardonable  sin — you  have 

outshone  her.  That  for  one  thing,  and  for  another "She 

checked  herself.  "  You  see  Mrs.  Scarlett  has  been  far  too 
long  the  acknowledged  beauty  of  our  world,  to  look  with 
loving  eyes  upon  a  rival.  Years  do  not  always  bring  sense, 
and  you  have  supplanted  her." 

"  But  it  is  all  such  nonsense,"  said  Marvel,  with  fine  con- 
tempt. "  You  say  that,  merely  as  an  excuse  for  the  strange 
and  open  aversion  she  has  shown  me.  But  there  is  some- 
thing more." 

"  Modesty  is  a  charming  quality,"  said  Mrs.  Verulam, 
rather  alarmed  by  her  last  words,  "  but  on  me  it  has  a 
nauseating  effect.  One  should  be  blind,  not  to  see  how  all 
eyes  followed  you  to-night.  You  are  a  success,  my  pretty 
maiden.  So  much  is  assured  to  you.  Your  triumph  over 
that  green-eyed  belle  is  as  complete  as  it  is  desirable."  Her 
own  eyes  shone  in  the  firelight  as  she  spoke,  and  she 
caught  Marvel  and  gave  her  a  little  hug.  It  was  delightful 
to  her  that  the  girl  should  thus  innocently  have  trodden  her 
foe  beneath  her  foot.  "  After  all,"  she  continued  presently, 
"there  is  nothing  like  youth;  and  between  you  and  me, 
well  as  she  undoubtedly  wears,  the  charming  Leonie  is  no 
chicken.  Why,  she  might  be  your  mother  ! :? 

Marvel  was  silent.  She  had  not  heard  one  half  of  Mrs. 
Verulam's  babble,  as  that  astute  young  woman  knew. 

"  There  !  After  all  my  eloquence  !  To  think  I  should 
have  discoursed  so  agreeably  only  to  bare  walls.  You 
haven't  heard  a  word  of  it,  have  you  ?  "  She  began  to 
laugh  as  she  caught  Marvel's  contrite  glance.  "  Don't  try 
to  look  a  lie,"  she  said  ;  "  one  should  never  essay  to  do  any- 
thing out  of  their  own  province.  And  besides  I  can  forgive 
you,  as  your  punishment  consists  in  your  having  been  deaf 
to  a  really  good  thing." 

"  Say  it  again,"  entreated  Marvel,  "  and  I  promise  you  I 
shall  listen." 


126  MAEVEL. 

"  Impossible.  Bursts  of  genius  cannot  be  done  to  order 
The  gist  of  the  matter  lay,  however,  in  the  fact  that  I 
said  Mrs.  Scarlett  was  old  enough  to  be  your  mother." 

Marvel  cast  a  faintly  reproachful  glance  at  her. 

"  Oh  no,"  she  said,  and  then  with  terrible  wistfulness, 
"My  mother!  Have  you  forgotten,  Cicely,  that  I  am  in 
reality  nameless,  that  you  talk  so  lightly  ?  It  is  a  strange 
thought,  is  it  not,  that  I  may  not,  and  yet  may,  have  a 
mother.  If  she  be  living  I  know  not  where  she  is,  and  if 
she  be  dead — why  I  know  not  that  either." 

"  You  always  speak  of  a  mother,  why  not  of  a  possible 
father,"  said  Cicely,  stroking  her  hand.  "  He,  too,  may  be 
living ;  you  may  meet  him  some  day."  In  her  soul  she 
hoped  not,  for  the  girl's  sweet  sake. 

"  I  am  sure  he  is  dead,"  said  Marvel  dreamily.  "  I 
don't  know  why,  but  I  am  sure  of  it.  Did  I  ever  show  you 
his  likeness  ?  "  As  she  spoke  she  drew  from  her  bosom  that 
old  battered  locket  and  opened  and  held  it  out  to  her  friend. 

"  I  didn't  know  you  had  a  picture  of  your  father,"  said 
Cicely  startled.  "  Why  this  is  a  clue,  and  yet  I  have  been 
always  told  that  no  one  knew  of " 

"  No  one  does,  for  certain ;  yet  I  feel  that  this  picture 
which  hung  round  my  neck  on  the  night  that  Fulke — that 
Lady  Mary — took  me  into  her  house  out  of  that  terrible 
storm  and  wind  and  rain,"  she  shuddered,  "  was  the  por- 
tiait  of  my  father  !" 

"  Let  me  see  it,"  said  Mrs.  Verulam  eagerly.  Long  and 
earnestly  she  gazed  at  it,  and  then  at  Marvel.  "  It  is 
strangely  like  you.  and  yet  unlike,"  she  said.  "  Do  you 
know,  when  first  I  met  you  I  thought  you  singularly  re- 
sembled some  one  I  knew,  but  try  as  I  would  I  could  not 
fit  the  resemblance  ?  " 

"  My  father — this  portrait — perhaps  you  know  //  /  "  said 
Marvel,  with  strong  emotion,  bending  towards  her  so  as  to 
study  her  features.  But  Mrs.  Verulam  shook  her  head. 

"  I  do  not  know  it,"  she  said.  "  This  face,"  looking  at 
the  portrait  "  is  entirely  strange  to  me,  although  it  is  so 
marvellously  like  you.  What  a  handsome  man,  what  a 
chiselled  nose  and  mouth  !  Yes,  keep  this  picture  safely, 
Marvel,  it  may  yet  be  of  great  value  to  you." 


MAKVEL.  127 

"  I  doubt  it,"  despondently.  "  Too  much  time  has  now 
gone  by  to  hope  for  proofs  of  my  birth." 

"  In  effect  you  are  a  mystery — a  beautiful,  an  interesting 
one,"  cried  Mrs.  Verulam  brightly.  "  Don't  be  down- 
hearted about  that,  it  adds  to  you  somehow.  It  suits  you. 
To  return  once  more  to  Mrs.  Scarlett,  however,  I  must  say 
I  wish " 

"  /wish,"  interrupted  Marvel,  with  a  touch  of  vehemence, 
"  that  she  had  not  betrayed  such  a  deep  animosity  towards 
me.  I  would  that  she  liked  me." 

"  Well,  do  you  know  you  fascinated  her  as  much  as  you 
repelled  her,"  said  Mrs.  Verulam  thoughtfully,  as  she  sank 
down  again  upon  the  white  fur  rug  and  took  her  knees  into 
her  embrace.  "  I  could  see  that  she  could  not  take  her 
eyes  off  you ;  they  followed  you  persistently  in  whatever 
room  you  might  be  in,  and  she  grew  positively  restless  when 
you  were  out  of  her  sight.  When  you  left  a  room,  almost 
instantly  she  made  some  excuse  and  left  it  too,  I  am  almost 
sure  to  follow  you.  It  was  the  most  exaggerated  case  ot 
jealousy  I  ever  saw,  or  else " 

She  hesitated  unmistakably,  and  Marvel  awoke  to  the  fact 
that  there  was  something  hidden  from  her  that  it  were  well 
she  knew. 

"  Go  on,"  she  said  gently,  though  a  deep  pink  spot  had 
come  into  either  cheek.  "  You  were  going  to  say  some- 
thing ;  say  it !  You  know  more  than  you  would  willingly 
tell  me,  yet  I  entreat  you,  dear  Cicely,  to  be  frank  with  me." 
She  spoke  so  vehemently  that  Mrs.  Verulam's  usual  finesse 
f  jrsook  her. 

"  Why  should  you  imagine  things  ?  "  she  said  confusedly. 

"  You  will  tell  me  ?  "  persisted  Marvel  in  a  low  tone, 
bending  over  her  and  turning  her  face  to  hers. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

11  And  they  laugh  well  who  laugh  the  last. 
Is  it  not  past  ? " 

STILL  Mrs.  Verulam  hesitated.     Then  she  began  to  con- 
sider a  little.      After  all,  if  she  refused  to  explain  the 


128  MAKVEL. 

matter  to  Marvel,  so  many  others  knew  of  it  that  it  must 
infallibly  come  to  her  ears  sooner  or  later.  And  those 
others,  would  they  put  it  as  gently  to  her  as  she,  Cicely, 
who  loved  her  ? 

Yet  how  to  hurt  that  tender  heart  !  She  shrank  from 
the  task,  and  cowardwise  had  almost  made  up  her  mind  to 
deny  everything,  when  she  remembered  Lady  Lucy's  some- 
what bold  advice,  given  early  in  the  evening.  She  had 
more  than  hinted  her  belief  that  Mrs.  Scarlett  would  herself 
seek  to  wound  the  beautiful  Lady  Wriothesley,  by  letting 
her  know  the  terms  on  which  she  and  Lord  Wriothesley 
had  been  when  the  latter  had  married  Marvel.  Lady 
Lucy,  who  knew  Leonie  Scarlett  well,  had  given  this  as  her 
sure  opinion  of  what  would  happen  unless  she,  Cicely, 
would  speak  a  word  of  warning  to  the  poor  pretty  child, 
who,  the  most  concerned  in  it  all,  was  yet  the  most 
ignorant. 

Oh,  to  think  of  that  woman  in  her  low,  soft,  cruel  voice, 
laying  bare  to  Marvel  so  fatal  a  truth  as  Wriothesley's  love 
for  another  !  The  thought  was  not  to  be  borne.  So  Mrs. 
Verulam,  with  a  little  inward  gasp  of  fear,  girded  up  her 
loins  and  rushed  into  the  breach. 

"  Well,  if  you  must  know The  fact  is "  she 

began  with  a  stammer  that  was  far  from  reassuring. 

"  Don't  make  a  beginning — a  preface  !  Leave  all  that 
out,"  said  Marvel,  whose  face  was  very  pale.  "  Tell  me  at 
once — whatever  it  is." 

"  You  shouldn't  look  like  that.  It  is  really  nothing. 
Nothing  more  than  happens  to  most  women.  You  must 
be  sensible  about  it,"  said  Mrs.  Verulam,  who  was  frightened. 

"  Can't  you  speak  ?  It  is  about  Mrs.  Scarlett,  I  know. 
Well,  if  I  must  question  you,  what  of  her  ?  " 

"  Only  that  there  was  once  a — a  flirtation  between  her 
and  Wriothesley." 

"  Once  1     How  long  ago  ?  " 

"  Eh  ?     Oh,  quite  a  long  while  now." 

"  I  beseech  you  to  tell  me  no  lies,"  cried  Marvel,  rising 
to  her  feet  and  pushing  back  her  'chair.  "I  can  bear 
it,  whatever  ic  is.  I  am  no  child,  no  fool.  And  to  be 
trifled  with  is  not  to  be  endured.  Tell  me  all.  By  '  once ' 


MARVEL.  129 

you  mean  that — that  he  loved  that  woman  when  he  married 
me?" 

She  looked  so  pale,  so  determined,  that  Mrs.  Verulam 
gave  in. 

"  That  is  the  truth,"  she  said  in  a  low  tone ;  "  though 
how — how  he  could " 

"Not  a  word — not  just  yet,"  breathed  Marvel,  raising 
her  hand  as  if  to  enjoin  silence.  She  moved  to  the 
window,  and  flinging  it  wide,  as  one  might  who  was 
suffocating,  she  leaned  out  into  the  velvet  darkness  beyond. 

What  thoughts  were  hers  just  then !  What  despair ! 
What  passionate  reproach  !  Night  was  near  its  death,  and 
already  the  first  faint  streaks  of  dawn  illumined  the  fir-clad 
hills.  The  stars  were  "  burnt  out  in  the  pale  blue  air ;  " 
there  was  a  rustling  amongst  the  leaves  as  the  early-waking 
breeze  stirred  them  to  life.  Up  from  the  garden  beneath 
came  the  delicate  perfume  of  opening  roses.  Each  thing 
bespoke  the  dawn  of  another  day.  There  was  a  trembling 
silence,  a  stir,  a  sigh,  a  pause,  and  then: 

"  Morn,  in  the  white  wake  of  the  morning  star, 
Came  furrowing  all  the  orient  into  gold." 

But  what  would  a  new-born  day  bring  her  ?  Naught  but 
new-born  doubts,  and  sickening  fears,  and  heart-felt  pains. 
She  leaned  against  the  window,  and  tightening  one  hand 
upon  the  other,  strove  to  restrain  the  wild  rebellion  against 
her  fate  that  was  oppressing  her. 

"  So  it  was  her  he  loved  ?  "  she  said  at  last,  turning  back 
to  Mrs.  Verulam,  who  still  sat  in  a  stricken  attitude  upon 
the  rug.  "  I  knew — I  guessed  there  was  some  one,  but 
that  it  should  be  that  one  woman  of  all  others." 

"  There  is  nothing  remarkable  in  it,"  exclaimed  Cicely, 
growing  voluble  and  scrambling  to  her  feet.  "  Every  man 
of  my  acquaintance  (with  an  exception  or  two  just  to  prove 
the  rule)  thinks  her  divine — why,  I  don't  know:  unless 
angels  have  green  eyes  and  a  most  repellant  manner.  But 
that's  just  like  men.  Treat  them  vilely  and  they  worship 
you  ;  fall  at  their  feet,  and  they  will  scarcely  trouble  them- 
selves to  pick  you  up.  Poufl  I  have  no  patience  with 

9 


I3o  MAKVEL. 

them.  And  Wriothesley,  of  all  men,  who  really  has  a  mind 
of  his  own  ! " 

"Was — it  going  on  long?" 

"What?  That  hateful  infatuation  of  his?  No— not 
long.  Three  months  at  most." 

"  But  why  didn't  he  marry  her,  then  ? "  demanded 
Wriothesley's  wife,  coming  away  from  the  window  and 
moving  impetuously  into  the  fuller  glare  of  the  lamps 
where  Cicely  could  see  her  more  plainly.  As  she  saw  her 
she  felt  a  sudden  shock.  The  childish  trust  in  Marvel's 
eyes  was  no  longer  there — the  lingering  touch  of  childhood 
that  had  up  to  this  stayed  with  her,  was  gone.  She 
stood  there,  a  woman,  young,  lovely,  but  embittered  by 
a  knowledge  of  the  world's  ways  that  hitherto  had  been 
unknown  to  her. 

As  Mrs.  Verulam  gazed  at  her  she  grew  sad  at  heart,  and 
remorseful  too.  It  was  she  who  had  dragged  this  delicate 
retiring  flower  into  the  fuller  glare,  as  it  were,  and  lo  !  as 
the  hot  scorching  sun  touched  its  leaves,  the  frail,  sensitive, 
pretty  thing  had  withered.  She  would  she  could  have 
undone  her  deed  now,  but  it  was  too  late.  Marvel's  ques- 
tion still  remained  unanswered,  and  the  girl  drew  a  little 
nearer  and  touched  her  upon  the  shoulder. 

"  Speak ! "  she  said  imperatively.  "  You  know  all. 
Answer  me  !  Why  did  he  not  marry  her  ?  " 

"  For  the  simple  reason  that  she  declined  to  marry  him." 

"  She  declined  ! "  It  seemed  impossible  ;  but  if  true 
it  only  made  the  case  even  harder  to  bear.  With  a  heart 
crushed,  wounded,  rejected,  yet  filled  with  love  disappointed, 
he  had  made  her  his  wife.  It  was  cruel,  ignoble  of  him  ! 

"  Yes.  If  revenge  would  do  you  any  good  (which  it 
wouldn't)  you  might  find  it  in  that  thought.  She  actually 
rejected  him.  Led  him  on  to  the  very  last  moment,  till 
he  laid  his  heart  at  her  feet,  and  then  threw  him  over." 

"  But  why — why  ?  " 

"  She  flew  at  higher  game.  Fulke  is  an  earl,  it  is  true, 
but  there  are  bigger  titles  in  the  market.  And  there 
was  an  old  man — a  creature  too  poor  to  name,  a  miserable, 
contemptible  thing,  a  very  wreck  of  what  had  once  been 
human — but  a  duke  !  There  lay  the  magic  charm  that 


MARVEL,  131 

made  him  young  and  lovely.  A  very  elixir.  What  were 
Wriothesley's  love  and  youth  when  laid  in  the  balance  with 
that  ?  Why,  nothing.  The  duke  proposed  the  very  day 
before  Wriothesley  came  for  the  answer  to  his  proposal, 
and  madam  made  a  swift  discovery,  that  marriage  with 
Wriothesley  would  not  tend  to  her  happiness.  So  that 
story  ended." 

"  And  mine  began.  It  is  an  iniquitous  thing.  I  have 
been  vilely  treated."  She  began  to  walk  rapidly  up  and 
down  the  room.  She  was  dry-eyed,  and  she  held  her  head 
high.  There  was  a  world  of  angry  contempt  upon  her  lips. 
She  had  taken  it  so  altogether  differently  from  what  Mrs. 
Verulam  had  expected,  who  had  anticipated  tears  and 
sobs,  and  gentle  misery  of  that  sort,  that  the  latter  still  sat 
on  the  white  rug  not  knowing  exactly  what  to  say  or  do. 

"  Your  story  is  not  complete,"  said  Marvel,  turning  to  her 
sharply.  "  Where  is  that  old  man  you  spoke  of  ?  She  is 
as  yet  only  Mrs.  Scarlett." 

"  He  died.  If,  as  I  said  before,  revenge  would  comfort 
such  as  you,  there  it  is  ready  to  your  hand.  But  you  will 
extract  nothing  from  it.  I  know  you.  Yes,  on  the  very  eve 
of  the  consummation  of  her  proudest  hopes,  death  stepped 
in  and  shattered  them.  The  old  man  was  gathered  to  the 
fathers  who  had  had  ample  time  to  forget  him,  and  madam's 
chance  of  being  a  duchess  was  knocked  on  the  head." 

Marvel  was  scarcely  listening.  That  quaint  habit  of 
hers  of  giving  herself  up  to  the  moment  and  letting  it  carry 
her  whithersoever  it  would,  had  taken  her  now  back  to  the 
yacht.  Once  more  she  stood  in  the  saloon  and  had  caught 
up  the  paper  on  which  he  had  lain  prone  some  days  before, 
heartbroken.  Again  she  eagerly  scanned  its  contents 
and  saw  the  paragraph  with  the  heading  in  huge  letters, 
"  Sudden  death  of  the  Duke  of  Dawtry."  She  knew  all 
about  it  now  quite  well.  No  explanation  could  make  it 
clearer.  The  old  man  was  dead  and  she  was  free,  but  he, 
Fulke,  was  tied  and  bound  to  one  whom 

She  lifted  both  her  hands  and  pushed  back  her  hair 
from  her  forehead.  Once  again  that  terrible  sense  of 
suffocation  was  bearing  down  upon  her.  She  would  not 
endure  it  She  turned  quickly  to  Cicely. 

9—2 


I3»  MARVEL, 

"All  this  has  to  do  with  her,  and — Lord  Wriothesley."  It 
was  the  first  time  she  had  ever  called  her  husband  by  his  title, 
and  Mrs.  Verulam  marked  it  with  some  anxiety.  "  But 
what  have  I  to  do  with  it  ?  Why  does  she  dislike  me,  the 
innocent  victim  ?  " 

"  My  dear  girl,  think !  She  had  set  her  heart  upon 
being  a  duchess,  but  had  Dawtry  failed  her  she  would  very 
willingly  have  consented  to  be  a  countess.  Dukes  and 
earls  don't  grow  on  every  bush,  but  she  was  fortunate 
enough  to  have  so  far  netted  both  as  to  be  sure  of  one 
if  the  other  escaped  her.  Well,  as  I  tell  you,  that  old 
duke  died,  and  she  was  fully  resigned,  after  a  decent  hour 
or  so  of  mourning,  to  fall  back  upon  the  earl.  But  you  had 
stepped  in  meanwhile  and  the  earl  was  not  to  be  had.  You 
had  dared  to  interfere  with  her  arrangements.  V'ld  tout" 

"  It  was  an  unpardonable  rudeness,  I  feel  I  should 
apologize,"  said  Marvel  with  a  short  laugh.  "  If  I  could 
undo  my  fault,  believe  me,  I  would." 

She  spoke  carelessly,  though  her  eyes  were  burning. 
Mrs.  Verulam,  who  was  fond  of  studying  people,  regarded 
her  curiously. 

"  Well,  you  can't,"  she  said ;  "  and  lucky  it  is  for 
Wriothesley  that  it  is  so,  though  hardly  so  for  you.  It  is  a 
shame  you  should  be  so  thrown  away,  but  if  ever  he  returns, 
Marvel,  and  should  see  you  both  in  the  same  room,  she, 
middle-aged,"  spitefully,  "  as  she  really  is,  and  you  at  your 
youngest  and  best,  why,  that  will  be  a  bad  quarter  of  an 
hour  for  her  at  all  events  !  It  was  an  unpleasant  story  from 
start  to  finish,"  speaking  earnestly,  "  and  I  daresay  you 
will  not  love  me  the  better  for  being  the  teller  of  it,  but  yet 
it  is  better  you  should  know  it,  if  only  as  a  means  of  guard- 
ing yourself  against  that  woman." 

"  I  shall  be  guarded.  I  shall  know  what  to  do."  She 
stopped  short  and  looked  at  Mrs.  Verulam,  still  sitting  on 
the  rug  :  "  I  do  not  love  you  the  less,"  she  said. 

"  Come  here,  darling  ! "  cried  Mrs.  Verulam  impulsively ; 
"  here,  quite  close.  There  is  one  thing ;  it  is  this,  I  am 
afraid  you  care  more  than  you  say.  But  that  is  folly. 
Many  men — most  men — have  been  in  love  before  their 
marriage,  but  it  has  not  prevented  their " 


MARVEL.  133 

"  Now,  no  more,"  said  Marvel  with  a.  strained  smile. 
"  We  will  forget  it  all  for  awhile  at  least,  and  whenever 
I  am  unhappy  about  it,  as  you  think  I  am  now,  I  shall 
come  to  you  for  comfort.  There,  is  not  that  a  concession 
and  a  promise?"  She  stopped  speaking  suddenly  and 
looked  a  little  blankly  at  Mrs.  Verulam.  "  I  do  believe  it 
is  I  who  am  lecturing  you  to-night,"  she  said.  "  How 
the  tables  have  turned  ! "  She  paused,  and  then,  "  How 
old  I  have  grown  ! " 

"  My  dearest  girl,  if  you  would " 

"  Never  mind.  One  must  grow  old  sooner  or  later,  and 
I  have  been  a  baby  for  quite  a  ridiculous  time.  Let  us 
forget  all  this.  Let  us  talk  of  to-night's  triumphs.  I  was 
a  success,  eh  ?  " 

"  A  tremendous  one.  One  unprecedented.  But  you 
must  not  let  that  fact  turn  your  head,"  a  little  uneasily. 
"  Come,  tell  me  now  whom  you  most  liked  of  all  your 
partners  ?  " 

"  A  question  easily  answered — Sir  George  Townshend." 
She  seemed  to  have  entered  completely  into  the  present 
question  and  to  put  all  deeper  considerations  behind  her. 
Her  manner  was  a  little  feverish,  yet  hardly  forced.  She 
puzzled  Mrs.  Verulam  more  than  she  liked  to  confess. 

"  Sir  George  ?  I  should  have  thought  you  would  have 
found  him  dry — dry  as  the  bones  he  is  for  ever  digging  up 
and  examining.  Did  he  breathe  many  of  his  scientific 
secrets  into  your  ear  ?  " 

"  No.  On  the  contrary,  his  conversation  was  of  the 
airiest  matter  imaginable,  and  the  most  charming."  Mrs. 
Verulam  looked  at  her  sharply. 

"  Sir  George  ?  "  she  said  again.  u  Any  other  man  on 
earth  you  like ;  but  that  he  should  talk  of  anything  airy, 
or  charming " 

"  He  talked  of  you,"  said  Marvel ;  "and  so  incessantly 
that  I  quite  enjoyed  my  short  time  with  him." 

"  How  absurd  ! "  Mrs.  Verulam  tiied  to  frown,  but  failed 
dismally.  "  If  he  has  tried  to  convince  you  that  he  is  of 
the  usual  butterfly  order,  made  to  amuse  and  be  amused," 
she  said,  "  he  is  an  impostor.  He  is  heavy,  I  tell  you, 
heavy  as  lead.  Don't  let  him  impose  upon  you.  But  he 


134  MAKVEL. 

was  not  the  only  one  you  talked  with  to-night.  What,"  she 
changed  colour  in  spite  of  herself  as  she  put  the  question, 
"  did  you  think  of  Mr.  Savage,  for  example  ?  " 

"It  was  odd  about  him  ;  he  proved  an  old  acquaintance. 
On  that  day  when,"  bitterly,  "  I  rid  Fulke  of  my  presence, 
he  was  in  my  carriage  and  was  kind  to  me  in  many  little 
ways  on  the  journey.  I  like  him,  I  think,  though  his  man- 
ner   Did  it  ever  strike  you  that  it  was  a  trifle  empresse  ?  " 

"  He  is  always  rather  too  pronounced  to  be  pleasant," 
said  Mrs.  Verulam  carefully.  "You  shouldn't  mind  what 
he  says.  He  has  always  some  new  fad  or  other.  Believes 
himself  five  fathoms  deep  in  love  here,  or  mad  about  a 
picture  there,  or  enslaved  by  a  new  opera  round  the  corner. 
But  he  is  a  nice  boy  enough  if  one  agrees  to  take  him 
au  naturel,  and  pay  no  heed  to  his  eccentricities." 

It  was  as  near  as  she  could  go  to  a  warning,  and  she 
herself  thought  it  very  neat.  There  was,  indeed,  only  one 
fault — Marvel  did  not  understand  one  word  of  it. 

"  He  is  coming  here  to-morrow,"  she  said,  "  or  rather  to- 
day," pointing  to  the  window,  through  which  the  pale  grey 
morning  light  was  stealing. 

"  To  call  on  you  ?  " 

"  Or  you  ;  I  hardly  know  which — both,  most  probably." 
She  yawned  slightly,  and  Mrs.  Verulam  rose  to  her  feet. 
"  We  have  run  our  time  for  sleeping  rather  fine,"  she  said. 
"  I  must  get  me  gone.  Good-night,  you  pretty  heart,  and 
happy  dreams  to  you.  They  shoidd  be  happy,"  she  caught 
the  girl  affectionately  by  the  arms  and  looked  at  her  earnestly; 
"  but  will  they  be  ?  You  will  not  let  that  old  story  torment 
you  ?  It  really  is  not  worth  it." 

"It  is  not,  indeed,"  said  Marvel  very  evenly.  "Theie, 
go  to  bed.  One  should  think  of  nothing  now  but  rest." 

Then  she  kissed  Mrs.  Verulam  and  led  her  to  the  door,  and 
stood  there  with  a  light  held  high  above  her  head,  smiling 
at  that  dainty  matron  as  she  sped  swiftly  and  noiselessly  up 
the  corridor  to  her  own  room.  She  gained  a  corner,  turned 
to  wave  her  hand  to  Marvel,  looking. so  pale  and  slim  and 
ethereal  in  her  shimmering  robes  with  the  diamonds  flash- 
ing here  and  there  and  her  eyes  like  stars,  and  then  was 
gone. 


MAEVEL.  135 

Marvel  went  back  into  her  room.  Extinguishing  the 
lamps,  she  drew  aside  the  curtains,  and  watched  the  waking 
day.  Slowly  it  came  up,  and  slowly  too,  although  tumul- 
tuously,  her  thoughts  gathered  and  arranged  themselves. 
That  woman  her  rival !  She  shuddered,  as  Mrs.  Scarlett's 
pale  handsome  face  rose  before  her.  Oh  !  any  one  but 
her  !  And  he — it  seemed  to  her  the  cruellest  thing  she 
had  ever  heard  of.  With  a  curious  intuition  she  knew  that 
he  had  married  her  out  of  a  wild  longing  for  revenge — a 
desire  to  prove  to  her  he  loved  that  he  was  not  inconsolable. 
But  how  poor  a  thing  it  was !  And  she  had  so  believed 
and  trusted  in  him  as  the  one  man  on  earth  worthy  of  all 
loving  belief  and  trust !  It  was  hard — hard  ! 

She  felt  as  some  poor  wild  thing  might,  when  trapped  and 
caged.  There  was  no  escape  for  her — and  no  way  of  crying 
aloud  her  grievance.  He  to  whom  alone  she  could  declare 
it  had  forsaken  her,  and  was — she  hardly  knew  where  just 
then.  A  sense  of  desertion — of  misery  too  acute  to  be 
borne,  fell  on  her,  and  she  sank  upon  her  knees  before  the 
open  window,  and,  leaning  her  head  against  the  casement, 
gave  herself  up  to  despair.  The  cold,  early  dews  of  the 
morn  settled  on  her,  and  clung  to  her  soft  hair ;  but  she 
heeded  nothing,  save  her  own  sad  thoughts. 

M  Oh  grief  beyond  all  griefs,  when  fate 
First  leaves  the  young  heart  lone  and  desolate 
In  the  wide  world,  without  that  only  tie 
For  which  it  loved  to  live,  or  fear'd  to  die." 


CHAPTER   XXIII. 

"Almost    erery  one  listens  with  eagerness  to  extemporary 
history. " 

"  Chaucer's  silence  was  more  agreeable  than  his  conversation." 

THERE  were  a  good  many  people,  certainly,  but  very  few  of 
them  to  be  seen.  Large  white  umbrellas  of  a  prodigious 
growth  hid  most  of  them.  The  sun  was  ninety  in  the  shade, 
and  all  Mrs.  Verulam's  guests  had  given  way  beneath  the 


I36  MABVEL. 

abnormal  heat,  and  were  sitting  or  lying  about  in  any  avail- 
able spot  where  a  breeze  might  be  expected. 

The  tennis  players,  however,  nothing  daunted,  still  held 
out.  One  could  hear  the  triumphant  shouts  of  the  winners 
and  the  groans  of  the  vanquished,  mingled  with  sharp  alter- 
cations now  and  then,  when  somebody's  partner  had  missed 
a  ball  that  was,  as  all  the  world  had  seen,  the  simplest  thing 
to  take.  There  was  a  huge  tent  to  the  left  of  the  courts, 
and  in  it  a  few  limp  people  had  taken  refuge  with  the  soda 
water  and  the  seltzer  and — the  other  things.  The  tea  was  in 
a  solemn  corner  all  by  itself. 

Outside,  the  white  umbrellas  looked  like  so  many  tiny 
tents  set  up  on  their  hook  as  if  in  defiance  of  the  real  one 
over  yonder.  There  were  always  two  people  under  each 
umbrella,  sometimes  three — infrequently  four.  Mr.  Kitts, 
who  was  an  alarmingly  social  young  man,  kept  skipping 
about  from  "  Brolly  "  to  "  Brolly  "  (as  he  called  the  proper 
umbrellas)  with  an  agility  that  did  him  credit,  considering 
the  condition  of  the  thermometer. 

"  Come  and  have  a  game — do  ! "  he  said,  popping  his 
head  inside  one  of  the  impromptu  tents  that  held,  at  the 
moment,  four.  "  It  isn't  half  bad  when  you  get  used  to  it." 

"A  game!  What  d'ye  take  me  for?"  cried  Sydney 
Dameron,  a  rather  popular  novelist,  waving  him  aside.  "  Go 
away !  Go  away  !  We  are  far  too  clever  to  condescend  to 
games.  We  have  brains.  Isn't  it  so,  Mrs.  Geraint  ?  " 

He  appealed  to  a  little  stout  lady  at  his  side,  who  had 
dressed  herself  in  white,  as  stout  women  will,  with  an  effect 
that  was  fatal.  She  was  fat  and  forty,  without  being  fair, 
and  -had  a  vivacious  manner  that  caught  the  unwise  passer- 
by and  nailed  him  to  her  side.  She  believed  herself  a  poet 
born,  and  posed  as  such.  Not  the  die-away  aesthetic  poet 
of  our  latter  days,  but  a  good  solid,  downright,  bona  fide 
rhymer  of  rhymes  such  as  the  healthy  soul  should  de- 
light in. 

She  had  a  small  circle  of  her  own — somewhere,  wherever 
she  went — who  were,  presumably,  healthy,  because  they 
did  delight  in  her — to  the  extent  of  drawing  her  out ; 
which  gave  them  no  trouble  whatsoever,  as  she  loved 
nothing  so  dearly  as  her  own  voice.  Of  herself  and  her 


MARVEL.  137 

poems — did  you  unluckily  "  bid  her  discourse  " — she  would 
hold  forth  until  the  sun  died  down ;  and  till  it  rose  again 
would  you  but  lend  your  ear.  Some  of  her  "  sonnets,"  as 
she  loved  to  call  them,  had  been  written  at  the  early  age  ot 
seven,  and  these  even  in  their  raw  state  she  would  tell  you 
were  far  above  those  given  daily  to  an  intelligent,  yet — so 
far  as  her  breathings  were  concerned — unenlightened  public. 

Next  to  the  would-be  poetess  sat  her  husband,  a  hand- 
some man  of  a  rather  music-hall  type,  to  whom  she  appealed 
every  now  and  then  to  confirm  her  assertions.  She  was 
gratified  now  by  Dameron's  allusion  to  her  brains,  and 
threw  up  her  hands  with  an  expressive  gesture. 

"  Tennis  !  no  !  "  she  said.  "  I  have  no  time  for  it.  No 
inclination.  You  should  not  tempt  me  !  "  She  shook  her 
head  archly  at  Mr.  Kitts,  to  whom  there  appeared  on  the 
instant  a  vision  of  a  fat  feather  pillow  endowed  with  legs 
and  arms,  making  a  wild  stroke  at  a  ball  flying  miles  above 
its  head.  But  he  kept  this  extraordinary  optical  delusion 
to  himself.  "  Work — work,"  she  declared,  "  is  all  I  desire. 
I  have  no  time  for  play.  I  have  just — as  I  have  been 
explaining  to  Mr.  Dameron — been  arranging  my  poems  into 
volumes — seven  I  think  they  will  make  when  printed — and 
I  am  only  embarrassed  now  as  to  whom  I  shall  intrust  them. 
Eh,  dear  ? "  —  to  her  husband,  who  started  into  more 
intelligent  life. 

"  Quite  so.  That  is  all  that  now  remains,"  he  said 
decisively. 

"It  is  most  interesting,  is  it  not?"  said  Dameron, 
addressing  Sir  George  Townshend,  who  was  fourth  occupier 
of  this  particular  umbrella.  "  Mrs.  Geraint  has  everything 
prepared.  Her  charming  poem  to  '  A  dead  mouse,'  written 
at  the  innocent  age  of  seven,  and  which  I  have  read  (so  you 
see  I  may  honestly  speak  of  it),  now  only  awaits  a  printing 
machine  to  carry  joy  to  the  hearts  of  thousands  !  It  is  the 
most  sportive,  the  most  extraordinary,  the  most  genuinely 
mirth-provoking  bit  of  creative  genius  on  which  my  eyes 
have  ever  lit." 

"  Did  it  strike  you  as  being  comical  ?  "  said  she  medi- 
tatively. "At  the  time  perhaps  I  thought — I  meant — 
But  it  only  shows  how  one's  natural  inclination  towards  wit 


138  MARVEL. 

will  break  forth.  I  assure  you  at  the  time  I  wrote  \  *  ^  «?.e 
believed  myself  pathetic." 

"  Well,  so  it  is,  so  it  is,  intensely  pathetic,"  said  iJameron. 
"  I  a«sure  you  there  were  moments  when,  as  I  read  it,  I  felt 
inclined  to  cry  for — er — that  is — with  you  ! " 

"  Those  little  things  thrown  off  at  that  tender  age — there 
is  something  curious  about  them.  Didn't  thac  occur  to  you 
as  you  read  them,  eh  ?  " 

"  Nothing  occurred  to  me  so  strongly,"  said  Dameron. 

"  And  now  there  is  just  the  one  last  thing,  to  choose  a 
publisher,"  said  Mrs.  Geraint  seriously,  to  whom  it  did  not 
occur  that  the  principal  difficulty  might  lie  in  getting  a  pub- 
lisher who  would  choose  her.  "You  have  had  of  course 
considerable  experience,  dear  Mr.  Dameron.  Whom  would 
you  recommend  to  me  ?  " 

Whereupon  Dameron  rather  unkindly  mentioned  the 
name  of  the  leading  firm  in  the  poetry  line,  hardly  expecting 
she  would  take  him  seriously.  But  he  didn't  know. 

"  Ah !  yes.  They  are  good  people,"  she  said  thought- 
fully, placing  her  finger  to  her  forehead  as  if  to  help  her 
memory.  "  But  are  they  trustworthy  ?  Might  I  depend 
upon  them  not  to  eliminate  bits,  or  to  touch  up,  or  to  alter 
a  word  or  phrase  ?  That  is  so  important.  One  likes  to  keep 
one's  little  gems  intact.  No  artificial  fining ;  no  false 
elaboration.  You  honestly  believe  they  will  not  meddle 
with  my  poems." 

"  I  would  stake  my  reputation  on  it,"  declared  Dameron 
gravely. 

"  Such  a  comfort  to  hear  you  speak  so  decidedly,  isn't  it, 
Sir  George?  And  so  you  really  and  truly  believe  these 
darlings  of  my  brain  will  be  a  success  ?  To  tell  you  the 
truth,"  leaning  coquettishly  towards  him,  "  I  have  dared  to 
believe  as  much  myself.  There  is  such  diversity  in  them : 

'  From  grave  to  gay,  from  lively  to  severe/ 

that  line  always  seems  to  me  so  appropriate  to  my  genius. 
One  might  imagine  that  poor  dear  Pope  had  written  it 
expressly  for  me." 

"Perhaps  he  did,"  said  Dameron.      "Though,"  doubt- 


MARVEI*  139 

fully,  "even  when  you  were  seven  he  couldn't  have  been 
alive,  could  he  ?  " 

"  Tut !  of  course  not,  you  silly  man,"  said  Mrs.  Geraint 
rather  tartly.  "  I'm  not  the  Wandering  Jewess,  I  assure 
you.  I  haven't  lived  for  centuries." 

"  Oh !  that  you  might ! "  said  Dameron  devoutly. 
"  Think  what  a  number  of  your  '  little  things '  you  could 
knock  off  if  time  were  permitted  to  roll  by  unheeded  by 
you.  By-the-by,  have  you  ever  read  anything  of  yours  to 
Sir  George  ?  " 

"  What  I  am  anxious  to  know,"  interrupted  Sir  George 
with  suspicious  haste,  and  an  angry  glance  at  Dameron, 
who  seemed  delighted  with  it,  "is  where  your  talent 
principally  lies?  In  tragic  subjects  or  in  lighter  veins?" 

"  That  is  what  you  will  learn  if  Mrs.  Geraint  will  be 
good  enough  to  read  you  the  first  volume  of  her  intended 
series." 

"  Really,"  said  Mrs.  Geraint  simpering  modestly,  "  every 
emotion  seems  to  come  to  me  with  equal  readiness.  I 
have  written  merry  verses  and  melancholy  verses.  I  have 
been  tender,  I  have  been  cruel.  I  have  been  pointed  and 
inconsequent — " 

"  Oh,  so  inconsequent ! "  murmured  Dameron  admiringly. 

"  And  I  have  been — well,  really,  I  think  I  might  say 
satirical.  Eh,  Dickory?" — to  her  husband — "don't  you 
think  I  might  say  I  have  been  even  satirical  ?  " 

"  Oh !  certainly  satirical  ! "  said  he,  as  though  a  little 
shocked  with  her  for  having  a  doubt  on  the  subject. 

"  So  you  see,  Sir  George,  you  could  not  well  judge  of  me 
without  a  lengthened  reading.  But  as  you  have  expressed 
such  a  flattering  desire  to  know,  I  shall  be  charmed  to  give 
you  some  of  my  choicest  efforts  as  soon  as  we  can  arrange 
an  hour.  What  do  you  say  to  now,  by-the-by ;  this  very 
moment  ?  In  this  languorous  heat  what  could  be  more 
enchanting  than  the  soft  liquid  rhymings  of " 

At  this  opportune  instant  Mrs.  Verulam  popped  her 
charming  head  under  the  umbrella. 

"  I  say,  you  good  people,  don't  you  want  your  tea  ?  "  she 
cried. 

Sir  George  rose  with  alacrity,  and  so  in  a  slower  measure 


140  MAEVEL. 

did  the  others,  and  all  moved  in  a  body  to  the  tent.  Lady 
Wriothesley  stood  in  the  entrance  to  it,  clad  in  a  severely 
simple  gown  of  white  linen,  with  a  heavy  gold  band  clasp- 
ing the  mechlin  frilling  at  the  throat.  The  opening  of  the 
tent  seemed  to  frame  her  in,  and  make  the  picture,  if 
possible,  more  perfect. 

"  What  a  face !  It  is  a  dream,"  said  the  novelist  in  a 
low  tone.  He  was  making  mental  notes,  as  he  looked  at 
her,  for  his  next  heroine.  Mrs.  Scarlett,  who  heard  him, 
smiled  superciliously.  As  she  entered  the  tent  she  said  a 
gracious  word  or  two  to  Marvel,  and  as  she  seated  herself, 
drew  her  skirts  aside  and  beckoned  to  the  girl  to  come  and 
sit  beside  her.  Something  curious  and  premeditated  in  the 
smile  that  accompanied  this  invitation  predisposed  Marvel 
to  refuse  it,  but  Mrs.  Scarlett's  strange,  cold  eyes  were  on 
hers,  and,  as  if  compelled  to  it  against  her  will,  she  obeyed 
the  summons. 

"  Is  it  victory  that  has  paled  your  cheek  ?  "  asked  Mrs. 
Scarlett  in  her  slow  indifferent  way.  She  was  scanning 
Lady  Wriothesley's  face  as  she  spoke  in  a  leisurely  fashion, 
that  was  as  embarrassing  as  it  was  impertinent.  Marvel 
grew  warm  beneath  her  gaze.  Almost  it  seemed  to  her  as 
though  this  woman  knew  why  her  cheek  was  white,  her  lips 
dumb,  and  gloried  in  the  knowledge.  It  was  terrible  to  her 
to  have  to  sit  here  side  by  side  with  her  who  held  her 
husband's  heart,  who  was  all  in  all  to  him,  whilst  she,  his 
wife,  who  should  have  had  first  place  in  his  affection,  was 
as  nothing.  She  writhed  in  spirit,  and  then  all  at  once  a 
little  chill  fell  on  her,  and  she  raised  her  head  and  looked 
defiantly  before  her.  Why  should  she  feel  nervous  in  her 
presence?  What  hateful  fascination  was  it  that  was  stealing 
over  her  ?  She  drew  her  breath  sharply  and  flung  it  from 
it.  She  remembered  how  Cicely  had  warned  her.  Mrs. 
Scarlett  was  still  talking  in  that  low  monotone  that  was  like 
distant  music : 

"  Of  course  it  charmed  you.  Success  always  does,  and 
your  triumph  of  last  night  was  so  complete.  I  was  only 
sorry  that  Wriothesley  was  not  here  to  witness  it.  You 
know,  don't  you,  that  he  is  an  old  and  dear  friend  of  mine  ? 
He  has,  of  course,  often  spoken  to  you  of  me  ?  " 


MAEVEL.  HT 

"  No.     Never,"  said  Marvel,  regarding  her  steadily. 

"  No  ?  He  was  always  a  little  taciturn,  dear  fellow. 
But  that  is  carrying  reserve  to  an  extreme,  eh  ?  As  I  was 
saying,  it  was  a  pity  he  did  not  see  how  you  were  admired 
last  night.  It  was  your  first  appearance  ?  " 

"  My  first— yes  ?  " 

"  How  cruel  to  hide  yourself  from  us  for  so  long.  But  I 
do  not  wonder  at  your  husband's  wishing  to  keep  you  to 
himself.  When  one  loves  a  thing,  one  is  jealous  of  the 
very  eyes  that  look  upon  it.  Wriothesley  was  naturally, 
— though,"  playfully,  "you  will  permit  me  to  say  selfishly — 
desirous  of  keeping  you  as  long  as  he  could  all  to  himself. 
You  see,"  with  her  swift  smile,  "  though  I  have  no  lover 
myself  I  understand  love's  ways." 

There  was  a  subdued  meaning  in  her  tone  and  glance 
that  maddened  Marvel. 

"  Do  you  mean  me  to  believe  that  you  understand  Lord 
Wriothesley's  ways  ? "  she  asked  icily,  though  her  heart 
was  beating  so  loudly  that  she  half  feared  it  must  be 
heard. 

"  Well — we  were  friends,"  replied  Mrs.  Scarlett  slowly. 
"  Where  is  he  now  ?  " 

"  In  Brazil." 

"  So  far  ?  Mrs.  Verulam  tells  me  you  were  not  strong 
enough  to  accompany  him.  What  a  sad  parting  it  must 
have  been  for  two  so  wrapped  up  in  each  other  as  you  were ! 
Were  you  long  married  at  the  time  ?  " 

"  What  time  ?  " 

"  When  you — separated." 

"Not  very  long.  The  subject  seems  to  have  a  keen 
interest  for  you,"  said  Marvel  very  directly. 

"  So  it  has,"  with  an  air  friendly  to  a  degree,  and  perfectly 
unmoved.  "  You  must  know  I  felt  myself  rather  aggrieved 
when  I  heard  of  your  husband's  marriage." 

"  So  I  have  heard,"  quietly. 

For  an  instant  Mrs.  Scarlett's  eyes  flashed.  Then  she 
leant  back  in  her  seat  and  slowly  unfurled  the  big  crimson 
fan  she  was  holding,  and  moved  it  indolently  to  and  fro. 
A  low  insolent  laugh  broke  from  her. 

"  That  so  old  a  friend  should  have  sent  me  no  word  of 


142  MARVEL. 

so  important  an  event  naturally  offended  me.  By  the 
merest  chance  I  knew  of  it  at  all.  And  where  was  the 
reason  for  such  secrecy  ?  "  She  paused  as  if  seeking  infor- 
mation from  Marvel,  but  in  reality  to  enjoy  the  expression 
of  anguish,  of  passionate  shame,  that  stole  over  the  young 
and  beautiful  face.  "  Even  at  this  moment  I  am  ignorant  of 
when  his  marriage  really  did  take  place.  Was  it  last  year, 
or " 

"  You  know,"  said  Marvel  in  a  clear  voice.  "  Lord 
Wriothesley  married  me  the  week  after  you  rejected  him. 
Is  your  examination  at  an  end  ?  Have  you  said  all  you 
wished  to  say  ?  Is  there  any  other  question  I  can  answer 
for  you  ?  " 

She  was  standing  now,  tall  and  firm,  and  was  looking 
down  at  Mrs.  Scarlett  with  eyes  that  flamed  with  vehement 
indignation.  With  that  righteous  anger  in  them  they  were 
not  altogether  unlike  Mrs.  Scarlett's  own  eyes. 

"  Well,  just  one  ! "  said  Mrs.  Scarlett  sweetly,  "  when  do 
you  expect  him  home  ?  " 

"  Never ! "  said  Marvel  with  a  strange  emphasis.  What 
was  the  use  of  concealment  with  this  woman  who  knew  all, 
who  gloried  in  the  thought  that  for  her  sake  the  husband 
was  false  to  the  wife.  She  felt  tired,  desperate.  Something 
was  rising  in  her  throat  that  seemed  to  choke  her.  She 
looked  round  her  with  a  little  wild  appealing  glance  in  her 
lovely  eyes. 

Mrs.  Verulam  came  quickly  up  to  her  and  laid  her  hand 
on  her  arm. 

"  Talk  of  India's  sun,"  she  said  lightly.  "  It  would  hold 
down  its  head  before  ours.  You  will  get  one  of  your  old 
headaches,  Marvel,  if  you  persist  in  braving  it."  Then  in 
a  hurried  whisper,  "Be  brave,  collect  yourself,  don't  let  her 
notice  you." 

She  drew  Marvel  away  with  her,  still  talking  in  her  pretty 
clear  treble,  until  just  outside  the  tent  she  came  upon  Sir 
George  Townshend  standing  alone. 

"  Will  you  do  something  for  me  ?  "  she  said. 

"  Anything,  in  reason,"  gravely. 

"Then  take  Lady  Wriothesley  somewhere  out  of  this 
hurly-burly.  The  sun  is  a  little  too  much  for  her.  She  is 


MARVEL.  143 

pale  and  tired.  Don't  talk  to  her ;  meditate  on  your  latest 
bone,  and  give  her  five  minutes  or  so  to  recover  herself." 

"  Dear  me,  Lady  Wriothesley,  you  do  look  white  !  "  said 
Sir  George  with  such  evident  concern  that  Mrs.  Verulam 
raised  her  eyes  quickly  to  his.  He  did  not  seem  to  see  her; 
he  placed  Lady  Wriothesley's  hand  in  his  arm,  and  took  her 
instantly  away  towards  a  secluded  walk.  Mrs.  Verulam 
stood  still  and  stared  after  them,  until  they  were  out  of  sight. 
Then  she  gave  way  to  her  feelings. 

"  Well ! "  she  said,  and  that  was  all.  But  there  was  a  good 
deal  of  meaning  in  it. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

**  I  have  seen  the  desire  of  mine  eyes, 
The  beginning  of  love." 

MARVEL  and  Sir  George  had,  however,  gone  only  thirty 
yards  or  so  when  they  encountered  Savage  coming  towards 
them  at  a  rapid  pace.  His  face  lit  up  so  unmistakably  on 
seeing  Lady  Wriothesley  that  Sir  George  rightly  conjectured 
it  was  to  see  her  that  he  was  there.  This  gave  him  a  chance 
of  seeking  that  solitude  he  craved  for,  as  he  indeed  was  not 
in  his  best  conversational  mood. 

"  So  fortunate,  to  meet  you  so  soon,"  said  Savage,  directly 
to  Marvel,  lifting  his  hat  and  letting  his  dark  face  brighten 
into  a  smile.  "  How  d'ye  do,  Townshend  ?  Going  anywhere 
in  particular  ?  " 

This  was  an  open  hint  that  he  would  like  to  accompany 
them. 

"  No,"  said  Townshend ;  "  Lady  Wriothesley  is  feeling  a 
little  overdone  by  the  heat,  and  I  have  been  given  directions 
that  she  is  to  go  to  some  shady  spot,  and  when  there  to  main- 
tain a  settled  silence.  The  present  spot  seems  admirably 
arranged  for  the  purpose,  but  if  we  all  three  keep  together, 
talk  we  undoubtedly  shall,  so  as  you  are  an  older  friend 
than  I  am,  I  think  I  shall  leave  Lady  Wriothesley  in  your 
care,  and  take  myself  away." 


144  MAEVEL. 

"  If  she  will  permit  it,"  said  Savage,  looking  earnestly  at 
her. 

"  As  you  will,  Sir  George,"  said  she  smiling  faintly.  She 
gave  him  a  little  kindly  glance  of  comprehension,  and  then 
walked  on  with  Savage  to  where  the  coveted  garden  seat 
might  be  found. 

As  for  Sir  George,  he  stood  a  moment  hesitating  as  if  un- 
certain whether  to  go  back  to  the  merry  party  on  the  lawn, 
which  evidently  seemed  to  him  the  preferable  thing;  or  to 
quit  the  field  altogether,  for  the  day  at  least.  This  hesitation 
was  of  short  duration.  He  settled  his  hat  firmly  on  his  brow, 
and  with  an  air  of  stern  determination  sought  the  stables, 
found  his  horse  and  rode  away  homewards. 

As  Marvel  sank  weariedly  upon  the  rustic  bench,  she 
glanced  at  Savage. 

"  It  will  be  very  dull  for  you,"  she  said.  "  If  you  will  leave 
me  I  shall  be  quite  content  here,  and  you  might  join  the 
others." 

"  Don't  send  me  away,"  entreated  he  quietly.  "  If  I  may 
only  stay  here,  I  too  shall  be  content." 

"  You  look  as  if  you  meant  that,"  said  Marvel.  "  I  should 
be  happier  than  I  am — I  have  so  many  friends.  But  to 
sacrifice  yourself  like  this,  and  on  such  a  lovely  day  !  " 

"  I  don't  think  I  look  at  it  in  that  light,"  said  he  gravely. 
"But  tell  me  what  brought  you  here  away  from  the  others." 

"  Sir  George  told  you  I  was  tired." 

"  I  think  you  are  more  unhappy  than  tired,"  said  he 
gently. 

"  Is  it  so  plainly  to  be  seen  ?  "  She  looked  at  him  very 
sadly.  "  Well,  I  don't  seem  to  mind  your  knowing  it,  some- 
how. But  it  is  nothing  really.  I  was  feeling  a  little  unstrung 
— a  little  distressed,  and  so  I  came  here  to  get  away  from 
it  all." 

"  That  you  should  be  unhappy ! "  he  said.  There  was 
passion  in  his  tone,  but  she,  who  up  to  this  had  stood  out- 
side love's  kingdom,  heard  it,  unheeding.  "  It  is  almost  a 
crime,"  he  went  on  in  a  low  voice.  "  One  is  tempted  to 
doubt  the  justice  of  it.  You,  so  young,  so  sinless,  should 
be  without  care,  or  pain,  or  troubling  thought." 

"  I  would  not  be  so  altogether  exempt  from  the  general 


MARVEL.  145 

doom,"  said  she  smiling.  "  In  that  too  would  lie  injustice. 
But  indeed,"  laying  her  hand  pathetically  upon  her  breast, 
"  I  wish  that  I  had  less  in  here  to  think  of.  There  is 
memory,  the  cruellest  foe  ;  who  can  escape  it !  Can  I,  can 
you  ?  "' 

"  I  cannot,"  he  replied,  "  but  memory  is  not  always  mer- 
ciless." 

"  To  some  perhaps  it  relents.  But  as  a  rule  we  all  fear 
it  more  than  we  love  it.  And  as  for  me,  young  as  you  deem 
me,  I  have  already  lived  long  enough  to  know  how  to  be 
deadly  tired  of  life.  Indeed,  sometimes,"  said  she  dreamily, 
"  I  wish  very  heartily  that  I  were  dead." 

"  Don't  speak  like  that,"  said  he,  greatly  shocked  in  spite 
of  the  calm,  emotionless  manner  in  which  she  had  said  it. 

"  But  why  not  ?  A  great  many  people,  I  think,  have 
honestly  wished  that.  But  perhaps  it  is  a  wrong  wish,  and 
perhaps  too,  if  brought  face  to  face  with  the  fu'filment  of  it, 
one  would  shrink."  She  sighed  heavily,  as  if  tired,  and  leaned 
backwards. 

"  You  are  talking  too  much,"  said  he  anxiously.  "  You  are 
worn  out  from  one  cause  or  another,  and  you  should  rest, 
not  argue  about  such  a  sorrowful  point." 

"  It  rests  me  to  talk,  I  am  so  often  silent ;  and  do  you 
know,"  said  she  turning  to  him  with  a  charming  smile,  "  that 
I  like  talking  to  you,  you  seem  to  comprehend,  as  it  were ; 
and  you  do  not  tell  me  I  am  fanciful,  or  call  me  a  silly 
goose,  as  Cicely  does." 

"  The  gods  forbid  !  "  said  Mr.  Savage  piously. 

"  I  hope  they  always  will.  I  should  not  like  you  to  change 
in  that  respect.  Though  they  tell  me  you  do  change  in 
most  ways." 

"  Do  they  ?     And  who  are  they  ?  " 

"  Never  mind.  It  has  nothing  to  do  with  it."  He  thought 
it  had,  but  he  held  his  peace  on  that  score. 

"True,"  he  said,  "what  really  matters  is,  that  you  have 
told  me  that  you  think  so  far  well  of  me  as  to  care  to  con- 
verse with  me,  that  pleases  me  far  more  than  I  dare  say." 

"  Perhaps  it  arises  out  of  the  fact  that  our  first  meeting 
occurred  so  long  ago.  So  very  long  ago,"  said  she  slowly, 
absently,  as  if  dwelling  on  some  thought  or  scene  in  the  re- 

10 


146  JUAKVTEL. 

mote  past.  "  But,  indeed,  always  when  I  think  of  you,  it  is 
as  a  friend." 

"Then  you  do,  sometimes,  think  of  me,"  said  he  in  a 
low  tone,  bending  forward  to  look  into  her  eyes — such 
serene  eyes,  clear  and  candid  as  the  day. 

"  Very  often.  Everything,"  mournfully,  "  connected  with 
that  fay  comes  back  to  me  with  such  a  strange  persistency." 

She  shivered  slightly  as  she  spoke,  as  at  some  dread 
remembrance,  and  a  cloud  crossed  her  face.  "How  she 
detests  the  very  thought  of  him  !  "  said  Savage  to  himself, 
mistaking  the  cloud  and  the  sorrowful  manner  of  her. 

"  I  am  glad  you  regard  me  as  a  friend,"  he  said  gently. 
"  Though,  indeed,  I  am  hardly  worthy  to " 

"  Do  not  say  that,"  interrupted  she  sweetly.  "  For 
indeed  I  need  friends,  and  I  would  believe  you  true, 
though,"  with  a  sudden  calm  glance  at  him,  "  I  have  been 
told  that  you  love  nothing  long;  this  thing  to-day  and  that 
to-morrow,  but  *  constant  to  one  thing  never  1 '  That 
argues  badly  for  a  lasting  friendship.  I  would  have  my 
friends  ever  the  same  to  me,  through  storm  and  shine,  even 
as  I  should  be  to  them." 

He  turned  a  penetrating  glance  upon  her,  and  met  her 
eyes  full.  All  at  once  he  dismissed  from  him  his  suspicions 
as  unworthy.  That  face,  so  calm,  so  pure,  belonged  only 
to  a  soul  unblemished.  No  hidden  meaning,  he  was 
assured,  lay  behind  the  words  that  yet  might  have  been 
those  of  a  practised  coquette.  The  lovely  features  before 
him  forbade  all  speculative  thought. 

"  I  do  not  ask  you  who  has  given  me  such  a  bad  charac- 
ter," he  said.  "  I  will  only  ask  you  to  suspend  judgment 
until  you  yourself  have  had  time  to  form  an  opinion ;  and 
in  the  meantime  I  would  entreat  you  to  believe  that  you 
have  on  earth  no  truer  friend  than  I  am."  Some  colour 
came  into  his  face  as  he  spoke,  and  his  dark,  eager  eyes 
flashed.  Nothing  warned  Marvel  at  that  moment,  and  she 
held  out  her  hand  to  him.  To  her  he  was  only  that  dear 
thing,  a  real  friend,  gained  by  one  who  was  indeed  pooi  in 
the  possession  of  them.  Oh  that  Fulke  had  been  as  kind 
to  her  as  this  man  was  I  She  was  thinking  of  Wriothesley 
rather  than  of  him  when  he  next  spoke. 


MARVEL.  147 

"If  I  could  help  you,"  he  said.  "Something  has 
annoyed  you,  I  know,  and  sometimes  to  speak  of  an 
annoyance  kills  it." 

"  I  could  not  speak  of  it,"  said  she  in  a  troubled  tone, 
"  and  indeed  perhaps  I  made  too  much  of  it.  It  was  only 

that  I  was  questioned,  tormented "  She  broke  off. 

"  It  is  rude  to  ask  questions,"  she  said  presently,  with  a 
slight  frown,  "  certain  questions,  I  mean  ;  isn't  it  ?  " 

"  More  than  that ;  ill-bred  would  be  a  civil  word  for  it." 
Then  suddenly,  "  Who  was  your  tormentor  ?  " 

"  Mrs.  Scarlett." 

"Ah!  she  would  be." 

"Why?"  asked  she,  with  a  sickening  fear  that  he,  too, 
knew  all.  Her  face  grew  very  pale,  and  probably  he 
divined  her  dread,  because  he  laughed  very  cleverly,  and 
with  a  carelessness  that  disarmed  her. 

"'Two  stars  keep  not  their  motion  in  one  sphere,'"  he 
quoted  lightly.  "  And  I  have  known  Mrs.  Scarlett  quite 
long  enough  to  be  sure  that  she  would  be  no  friend  of 
yours.  She  is  a  very — er — clever  woman,  but  that  is  no 
reason  " — gaily — "  why  you  should  be  afraid  of  her.  There 
is  no  earthly  reason  why  any  one  should  ever  regard 
another  with  dread." 

"  You  think  I  am  afraid  ?  " 

"I  think  you  are  nervous,  and  very  naturally  so.  A 
woman  of  the  world,  and  especially  one  of  Mrs.  Scarlett's 
calibre,  is  no  mean  foe." 

"  That  is  it,"  said  Marvel,  turning  suddenly  to  him.  "  A 
foe  !  Oh,  I  wish  she  were  not  that !  What  have  I  done  to 
her  that  she  should  hate  me  so  ?  It  was  not  my  fault  that 

I "  She  checked  herself,  and  coloured  crimson. 

"  You  have  known  her  a  long  time,  then  ?  "  she  went  on 
confusedly.  "  Did — did  she  ever  refuse  you  1 " 

The  question  was  so  naive,  the  reason  for  it  so  childishly 
transparent  that  Savage,  though  touched  by  the  expression 
in  her  face,  could  not  refrain  from  laughing  aloud. 

"  I  did  not  give  her  the  chance,"  he  said.  "  I  cried  ofl 
at  the  last  moment,  more  by  luck  than  by  good  manage- 
ment, I  allow.  I  will  confess  to  you,  though,  that  at  one 
time  she  might  have  done  what  she  chose  with  me.  I  was 

10 — 2 


-48  MARVEL. 

so  infatuated  by  her  that Well,  never  mind !  I  haunted 

her — I  was  her  shadow  (how  awfully  absurd  it  sounds  now  !). 
I  have  often  gone  about  for  days  with  an  abominable  faded 
flower  stuck  in  my  breast  just  because  her  hand  had  touched 
it.  It  went  on  for  ever  so  long — she  is  artful  about  keep- 
ing you  in  line — putting  off  the  denouement  until  her  own 
time  arrives  for  getting  rid  of  you.  She  put  it  off  a  little 
too  long,  however,  in  my  case.  She  played  with  me  as  if 
I  were  a  trout,  but,  as  I  tell  you,  she  overdid  it,  and  one 
day  I  made  a  violent  effort  and  broke  clean  away,  carrying 
the  hook  in  me.  I  acknowledge  that  that  hurt  me  for  a 
considerable  time,  but  after  a  while  I  got  rid  of  that  too, 
and,  as  you  see,  I  am  a  sound  fish  still.  Instead  of  throw- 
ing myself  at  her  feet  I  took  the  tidal  train  to  Dover  and 
went  to  Paris.  But  I'm  afraid  she  has  never  forgiven  me." 

"  I  think  she  has,"  said  Marvel.  "  I  saw  how  kindly  she 
smiled  at  you  to-day." 

"  Did  you  ?  Oh,  then  you  may  be  sure  she  hasn't.  And 
— by  jove  ! — talk  of — er — here  she  comes,  you  know  ! " 

Indeed,  quite  a  little  party  of  people  came  round  the 
corner.  Mrs.  Scarlett,  Mrs.  Verulam,  Dameron,  Kitts  and 
one  or  two  others.  They  all  gave  way  to  small  expressions 
or  glances  of  mild  surprise  when  they  saw  Savage,  whose 
home  was  some  miles  away,  and  who  on  the  present  occa- 
sion had  omitted  to  say  "  How  d'ye  do  ?  "  to  his  hostess. 

"  I  say,  Savage,  this  is  very  artful  of  you,"  cried  Mr.  Kitts 
in  high  good  humour,  who  spent  the  best  portion  of  his  life 
in  going  about  and  saying  such  things  as  he  ought  not  to 
say.  Savage  looked  darkly  on  him,  but  the  rest  laughed. 

"Where  is  Sir  George?"  asked  Mrs.  Verulam  im 
pulsively. 

"  He  was  not  in  good  spirits,  I  think,"  said  Marvel,  with 
a  soft,  intelligent  smile  at  her.  "  I  am  sure  he  wanted  to 
be  alone,  because  the  moment  he  and  I  met  Mr.  Savage  he 
made  a  little  inconsequent  excuse  and  went  away." 

Mr.  Dameron  stooped  and  brushed  an  infinitesimal  speck 
of  dust  off  his  boot.  Really  she  was  too  delicious  ! 

"  Dear  Sir  George  !  He  is  so  go'od,  so  obliging,"  said 
Mrs.  Scarlett  in  her  indolent  way;  "the  best-hearted  person 
I  know." 


MAKVEL.  149 

"  I  entirely  agree  with  you  so  far,  but  I  really  fail  to 
understand  where  his  good-nature  came  in  here,"  said  Mrs. 
Verulam  frigidly. 

"  No  !  Do  you  ?  "  cried  Mr.  Kitts  gaily.  "  Why,  '  three 
is  trumpery,'  don't  you  see,  eh  ?  " 

"  In  the  present  case  I  do  not  see,"  said  Mrs.  Verulam, 
directing  a  glance  at  him  that  would  have  withered  any 
one  else,  but  bounded  off  him  harmless. 

"  Why,  look  here,"  he  was  beginning,  secure  in  the  fact 
that  Marvel's  attention  was  engaged,  when  Dameron  pro- 
videntially struck  in,  and  saved  him. 

"  The  situation  grows  serious,"  he  said.  "  Let  us  forget 
everything  but  this  mysterious  disappearance  of  the  real 
live  baronet.  An  hour  ago,  Sir  George  was  amongst  us, 
hale  and  hearty ;  at  this  moment  who  shall  say  where 
he  is  ?  " 

"/  know,"  piped  a  shrill  little  voice  from  apparently 
nowhere ;  Mr.  Kitts  gave  a  dramatic  start,  and  Dameron 
glanced  with  much  emotion  at  Mrs.  Verulam. 

"  He  did  not  speak  so  small  when  in  the  flesh,"  he  said 
in  a  subdued  whisper.  Mrs.  Verulam  laughed. 

"Is  that  you,  my  ducky  ?"  cried  she  laughing,  and  then 
a  small,  rather  dishevelled,  but  lovely  little  creature  pushed 
her  way  through  a  hole  to  the  tall  evergreen  hedge  near  to 
which  they  were  standing.  It  was  Mrs.  Verulam's  daughter, 
as  one  need  only  look  at  her  to  know.  She  ran  to  her 
mother,  as  children  always  will  who  are  sure  of  a  welcome 
— and  God  help  those  who  are  not — and  twined  her  arms 
round  her  waist. 

"  I  saw  him,"  she  said.  "  And  I  told  him  he  mustn't  go. 
But  he  said  he  must.  And  he  kissed  me,  and  asked  me  if 
I  loved  him,  and  I  said  yes,  but  not  so  much  as  I  loved 
my  mammy.  He  was  sorry  about  something,  I  think. 
What  was  it,  mammy  ?  " 

"  Because  you  couldn't  love  him  enough,  perhaps,"  paid 
Mrs.  Verulam  laughing.  "  Oh,  you  bad  mouse  !  see  now 
what  you  have  done  to  poor  Sir  George  !  "  She  blushed  a 
little  as  she  spoke,  but  that  was  the  only  sign  of  grace 
about  her.  "  I  should  think  we  ought  to  be  thinking  of 
changing  our  gowns,"  she  said  presently,  with  a  faint  yawn. 


150  MARVEL. 

"  Dinner  will  have  to  be  gone  through,  I  suppose.  You 
will  stay  and  dine,  Nigel  ?  " 

"  Thank  you.  It  did  suggest  itself  to  me  that  you  might 
ask  me,  so  I  brought  my  things,"  replied  he.  "  I  look  for 
a  welcome  from  you  somehow." 

"  Take  care  you  don't  look  in  vain  some  day,"  said  she 
in  a  low  tone,  with  a  meaning  glance  at  Marvel.  "  You 
must  not  carry  that  too  far.  I  could,"  with  a  slight  smile, 
"  be  unforgiving." 

"  You  mean n 

"  Yes.  That  is  exactly  what  I  do  mean,"  interrupted  she 
impatiently.  "  I  am  not  going  to  have  matters  made 
unpleasant  for  her." 

"  Believe  me,  you  credit  me  with  more  power  than  I 
possess,"  said  he.  "  I  could  not  make  things  pleasant  or 
unpleasant  for  her.  She  is  supremely  indifferent.  That  is 
perhaps — at  least,  I  have  been  supposing  so — her  principal 
charm." 


CHAPTER   XXV. 
"  It  is  said  that  jealousy  is  love  1" 

YET  perhaps  he  haidly  believed  that  honestly,  or  else  the 
charm  of  indifference  he  had  ascribed  to  her  was  so  strong 
as  to  draw  him  to  her  side  day  after  day.  There  was 
always  the  excuse  of  a  house  full  of  guests,  as  an  attraction, 
but  when  he  did  come  to  Grangemore  it  was  as  though  no 
one  was  there  but  Marvel.  He  at  least  appeared  to  see  no 
one  else,  and  Marvel,  for  her  part,  seemed  very  content  to 
accept  the  trifling,  and  apparently  harmless,  attentions  he 
showered  on  her. 

Mrs.  Verulam  was  secretly  uneasy  about  it,  Marvel  being 
in  a  measure  in  her  charge ;  her  sister-in-law  openly 
amused;  and  Mrs.  Scarlett  now  and  then  dropped  a  little 
caustic  word  or  two,  and  was  plainly  watching,  with  a  rather 
malicious  delight,  the  turn  events  were  taking.  As  for  all 
the  others,  they  took  it  as  part  of  the  general  amusement 
and  Marvel  alone  was  supremely  unconscious. 


MAEVEL,  151 

Several  times  Mrs.  Verulam  had  made  up  her  mind  to 
speak  to  her,  but  somehow  had  always  shrunk  from  it.  For 
one  thing,  the  girl  herself  was  so  utterly  ignorant  of  any 
thought  of  wrong  doing,  and  for  another  there  was  always 
the  possibility  that  she  might  be  accused  of  jealousy  !  All 
the  men  in  the  house  were  very  attentive  to  Marvel,  as  well 
as  those  out  of  it,  who  were  in  the  habit  of  calling — notice- 
ably Savage  and  Sir  George  Townshend !  Few  of  her 
guests  had  forgotten  that  old  tale  of  Sir  George's  rejection, 
two  years  ago,  and  as  no  woman  likes  to  be  forsaken,  even 
by  a  rejected  lover,  they  might  easily  attribute  an  attempt 
on  her  part  to  check  Marvel's  so-called  flirtation  with 
Savage  to  a  determination  to  check  her  in  other  quarters  as 
well.  It  was  cowardly,  she  felt,  but  she  could  not  as  yet 
bring  herself  to  warn  Marvel  of  the  sure  chance  she  was 
running  of  getting  into  the  merciless  mouth  of  society. 

It  was  rather  a  dull  afternoon,  and  rain  had  been  falling 
off  and  on  all  day.  There  was  a  suspicion  of  thunder  in 
the  air,  and  the  heat  was  of  that  oppressive  kind  that  affects 
the  nerves.  Savage  and  Sir  George  had  ridden  over  early 
in  the  morning,  and  had  stayed  to  luncheon,  and  there  had 
been  an  attempt  at  billiard-playing  afterwards.  Mrs. 
Verulam,  with  her  mind  full  of  unsolved  puzzles,  had  tired 
a  little  of  all  the  chatter,  and  had  stolen  away  from  her 
guests  to  try  and  get  an  hour's  quiet,  and  a  touch  of  that 
faint  breeze  that  the  evening  was  bringing  in  its  train. 

She  went  into  the  smaller  drawing-room,  that  also  opened 
on  to  the  balcony,  and  seating  herself  on  the  broad  window 
sill,  leant  her  head  against  the  woodwork  next  her. 

It  was  horrid  weather,  she  told  herself,  and  she  was 
feeling  out  of  sorts.  They  had  been  making  such  a  row  in 
that  billiard-room.  Really  Lucy  ought  to  have  been  a 
barmaid  rather  than  a  countess.  And  as  for  Mrs.  Geraint ! 
Call  her  a  poetess.  Marvel  was  the  only  lady  amongst 
them.  Which  of  them  was  it  had  said  Sir  George  was 
decidedly  tpris  there  ?  Mrs.  Scarlett,  of  course.  She  was 
mad  with  jealousy,  that  woman.  Well,  thank  goodness,  no 
one  could  accuse  her  of  that  petty  vice. 

She  was  growing  decidedly  self-righteous,  when  some- 
thing occurred  that  knocked  virtue  and  everything  else  out 


iSi  MAKVEL. 

of  her  head.  It  was  the  flying  of  some  heavy  body  through 
the  window,  and  apparently  just  past  her  nose.  It 
skimmed,  in  fact,  that  Grecian  feature.  When  she  had 
sufficiently  recovered  from  the  shock  it  caused  her  to  ook 
up  again,  she  made  the  discovery  that  it  was  Sir  Geoige 
Townshend  who  had  thus  been  shot  through  the  window  to 
her  feet. 

"  I  beg  ten  thousand  pardons,"  cried  he,  evidently  in  a 
terrible  fright.  "  But  it  was  all  that  confounded  curtain. 
I  caught  my  foot  in  it.  I  haven't  hurt  you,  have  I  ?  " 

There  was  such  unmistakable  solicitude  in  his  tone  that 
her  spirits  rose. 

"No,  by  a  lucky  chance.  The  eighth  part  of  an  inch 
nearer,  and  I  should  have  been  exterminated.  No  great 
harm,  I  daresay  you  think  !  Well,  now  you  have  come,  sit 
down  and  talk  to  me  for  a  little  bit." 

"  So  sorry,  but  really  I  haven't  a  moment  to  lose." 

"  Not  even  one — to  me  ?  What  nonsense  !  Here," 
patting  the  seat  beside  her,  "  I  am  so  old  a  friend  that 
it  is  your  duty  to  stay  with  me  when  I  desire  your 
company." 

"  Once  before  you  desired  it.  It  was  on  just  such  a  day 
as  this,"  looking  out  at  the  murky  clouds  that  dulled  the 
heavens.  "'Stay,'  you  said;  but  afterwards  I  found  I  had 
stayed  too  long." 

This  remembrance  of  his  pleased  her.  He  did  recollect 
then !  He  sometimes  looked  back  ! 

"  What's  the  good  of  having  a  parson,"  she  said  saucily, 
"  if  you  won't  take  to  heart  his  preachings.  You  know 
it  is  wicked  to  bear  malice,  don't  you?  Come,  sit  down 
here  and  let  us  gossip  awhile." 

"  Quarrel,  rather — that  would  be  the  old  story.  No, 
I  can't."  He  drew  himself  up  with  such  a  Spartan  deter- 
mination as  revealed  to  her  all  he  fondly  believed  he  had 
concealed.  "  I've  dawdled  away  all  my  afternoon,  and  I 
shall  miss  the  post  if  I  stay  longer.  There  is  just  one 
word  I  wish  to  say  to  Lady  Wriothesley,  and  then " 

"  Oh,  if  that  is  it ! "  said  she  petulantly,  "  why,  go  !  I 
do  believe  you  are  in  love  with  Lady  Wriothesley,  like  all 
the  rest  of  the  world." 


MAKVEL,  153 

This  burst  of  ill-temper  seemed  to  give  Sir  George  in- 
tense satisfaction. 

"  She  is  very  charming,"  he  said  pensively. 

"  So  I  hear,  morning,  noon,  and  night,  on  all  sides.  I 
am  quite  tired  of  listening  to  that,  and  every  other  lau- 
datory word  in  the  vocabulary,  applied  to  her.  But  don't 
flatter  yourself  that  she  cares  for  your  opinion,  good  or  ilL 
She  is  a  cold  little  thing.  She  thinks  of  none  of  you." 

"  Other  people  are  cold,  too ;  and  she,  at  least,  is  kind." 

"  Have  you  considered,  my  good  friend,"  exclaimed  she 
sharply,  "  that  the  coast  is  not  clear  for  you  ?  She  is  al- 
ready appropriated,  this  marvellous  creature  !  She  has 
attached  to  her  that  awkward  impediment — a  husband." 

"  You  speak  only  the  distasteful  truth,"  said  he 
gloomily. 

"  And  when  he  returns  and  finds  you  dangling  after  her, 
how  then  ?  " 

"  He  may  never  come  back,"  said  Sir  George  in  a  sepul- 
chral tone,  though  his  heart  was  beating  more  merrily  than 
it  had  done  for  many  a  day. 

"  Ah  !  so  that  is  what  you  hope  for  !  Is  that  your  little 
game  ?  You  think  he  will  be  killed — murdered,  perhaps," 
she  cried  scornfully. 

"Truly,  from  all  I  have  read  and  heard,  life  is  not 
held  of  much  account  where  he  now  is,"  returned  Sir 
George  mildly. 

"  Talk  of  savages,"  said  she  in  high  disgust ;  "one  need 
not,  it  seems  to  me,  go  far  from  home  to  find  them." 

"  One  needn't  go  at  all.  The  last  representative  of  that 
illustrious  race  is  at  present  in  your  drawing-room." 

"Pouh  !  You  know  what  I  mean.  It  was  a  most  cold- 
blooded speech,  to  wish  a  man  murdered.  I  wouldn't 
have  believed  it  of  you.  It  only  shows  how  one  may  be 
deceived  even  in  one's  most  intimate  acquaintances." 

"  One  may,  indeed,"  with  a  steady  glance  at  her  that 
made  her  lower  her  eyes  for  the  moment. 

"Your   pretence    at   misunderstanding   me,"   she   said 
presently,  "  has  recalled  to  my  mind  Nigel  Savage.      Have 
you  considered  that  you  have  a  formidable  rival  there  ?  " 
"  No ;  for,  as  you  say,  she  is  cold  to  all  alike." 


154  MARVEL. 

"Well,  I  am  at  my  wits'  end  about  him  ! "  she  exclaimed, 
forgetting  everything  else  in  the  real  anxiety  about  Marvel. 
"  He  follows  her  about  all  day  as  if  he  were  her  lap-dog, 
and  she  never  seems  to  think  it  necessary  to  give  him  a 
hint  that  it  won't  do.  She  is  either  very  foolish  or 
very " 

"  Innocent,"  suggested  Townshend. 

"  You  support  her,  of  course,"  pettishly.  "Well,  and 
you  are  right,  too.  She  is  innocent.  The  very  incarna- 
tion of  innocence.  But  all  that  will  not  prevent  a  regular 
imbroglio  when  Wriothesley  comes  home." 

"  Is  he  thinking  of  coming  ?  " 

"  Who  can  ever  tell  what  a  man  is  thinking  about !  Just 
the  last  thing  he  says,  you  may  be  sure.  Oh,  you  may 
rest  tranquil  so  far.  He  is  not  coming  ygt,  at  all  events. 
When  he  is,  I  am  so  far  your  friend  that  I  shall  give  you 
timely  warning  of  that  unwished  for  event." 

"  You  were  never  my  friend,"  said  he ;  "  it  is  unlikely 
you  will  become  so  in  the  future." 

"  Stranger  things  have  happened ;  and,"  with  a  swift 
glance  at  him,  "  perhaps  I  was  your  kindest  friend,  who 
knows  ?  But  to  return  to  certainties  and  Nigel,  I  may  as 
well  tell  you  I  am  growing  seriously  uneasy  about  his  mis- 
guided attentions.  They  are  so  open,  so  undisguised,  that 
one  feels  quite  a  difficulty  about  taking  notice  of  them  ; 
and  yet  I  must  do  something.  There  is  Mrs.  Scarlett — she 
will  make  mischief  if  ever  she  can,  and  I  suppose  she  will 
be  able  to  get  at  Wriothesley's  ear  when  he  does  return, 
unless  she  is  gathered  to  her  fathers,  if  she  ever  had  any. 
And  there  is  no  such  luck  in  store  for  us,  I  fear.  She 
hates  Marvel  very  honestly,  and  you  know  how  simple  a  thing 
it  is  to  whisper  away  a  reputation,  and  how  impossible  to 
whistle  one  back ;  but  besides " 

"  In  heaven's  name,  then,  why  don't  you  write  to  your 
cousin — to  Wriothesley  ?  "  exclaimed  Sir  George,  in  much 
agitation.  He  dropped  his  pince-nez,  a  sure  sign  of  men- 
tal disturbance  with  him,  and  began,  to  pace  excitedly  up 
and  down  the  balcony.  "  What  the  deuce !  "  he  said  in- 
dignantly. "  The  fellow  should  be  commanded  to  come 
home.  It  is  disgraceful  that  he  should  leave  that  poor 


MARVEL.  155 

child  without  protection  of  any  sort.  He  must  be  mad  to 
do  it.  Write  to  him  without  delay,  and  point  out  to  him 
his  duty  if  he  doesn't  know  it." 

"  And  so  spoil  your  chance  of  marrying  his  widow !  Oh, 
no,  I  couldn't  do  it,"  said  Mrs.  Verulam,  with  mournful 
conviction.  Then  she  caught  his  eye,  and  burst  out  laugh- 
ing. "  After  all,  you  were  foolish  to  attempt  it,"  she  said. 
"  You  are  but  a  very  inferior  actor  when  all  is  told.  Was 
ever  lover  yet  desirous  of  the  husband's  return  ?  Go  study 
your  part  afresh ;  you  have  not  caught  the  spirit  of  it." 

"  The  spirit  of  what  ?  A  part  to  study  !  Why  should  I 
act  a  part  ?  " 

"  To  make  me  jealous,"  said  she  audaciously. 

She  was  a  little  sorry  when  she  had  said  it.  His  face 
changed. 

"  You  go  too  far,"  he  said,  in  a  tone  that  assured  her  he 
was  now  seriously  angry.  "  A  coquette  you  are,  I  know ; 
but  that  you  should  be  altogether  heartless !  Leave  me  at 
least  my  respect  for  you." 

Mrs.  Verulam  grew  angry  in  her  turn. 

"  I  don't  want  people  to  respect  me  when  they  hate  me," 
she  said,  with  a  pretty  petulance. 

She  was  indeed,  as  he  had  said,  a  born  coquette,  and 
through  all  her  anger  she  knew  that  this  was  the  sort  of  a 
speech  to  subdue  and  soften  him,  and  allay  his  just  wrath. 

"  /  hate  you — / 1 "  he  began  vehemently ;  but  she  cut 
him  short. 

"  What  does  it  matter  !  It  is  not  of  my  wrongs  I  wish 
to  speak,"  she  said,  sighing  heavily,  as  though  remembering, 
even  whilst  she  forgave  him,  the  cruel  manner  in  which  he 
had  just  maligned  her ;  "  it  is  of  Marvel.  I  hardly  know 
what  to  do  about  her.  In  the  end  it  is  on  my  shoulders  the 
blame  will  fall  if  there  is  any,  and  I  greatly  doubt  me  there 
will  be  fire  to  this  smoke.  Yet  how  can  I  forbid  my  house 
to  Nigel  or,"  with  a  reproachful  glance  at  him,  "  to  you  ?  " 

"  To  me  you  certainly  can,"  said  he  abruptly.  "  You 
have  only  to  say  the  word  and  I  leave  it  now,  and  for  ever. 
I  was  mad  to  return  to  it." 

She  hesitated,  having  lost  her  composure  in  a  degree,  and 
he  held  out  his  hand  to  her. 


«56  MAKVEI* 

"  Good-bye,"  he  said. 

"  Oh,  but  not  just  yet.  Consider ;  how  am  I  to  get  on 
with  my  '  Sketches  in  Spain '  without  you  ?  You  would 
not  desert  me  at  the  most  critical  moment,  would  you  ? 
And  I  shall  never  give  them  the  final  touch  unless  you  are 
near  me  now  and  then  to  compel  me  to  work.  Besides — 
bless  hie  ! "  cried  she  suddenly,  as  a  little  clock  somewhere 
in  the  distance  tinkled  out  the  hour.  "Who  would  have 
believed  it  so  late  ?  I  am  afraid  tea  has  been  awaiting  me 
in  the  library  for  the  last  half  hour.  Come  with  me,  do  I 
if  only  to  protect  me  from  the  vials  of  wrath  that  will 
be  surely  poured  on  my  head." 

She  slipped  her  hand  through  his  arm,  and  led  him 
towards  the  door,  once  more  her  captive. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

"And  innocence  hath  privilege  in  her 
To  dignify  arch  looks  and  laughing  eyes." 

THEY  were  not  accosted  by  reproaches  on  their  entrance 
into  the  library  however.  No  withering  glances  met  their 
eye.  Far  from  it.  It  did  even  occur  to  Mrs.  Verulam 
that  if  she  had  never  come  in,  they  would  scarcely  have 
found  it  out.  There  was  no  pining  for  the  longed-for  tea, 
but  rather  a  relishing  of  it.  Lady  Lucy  was  wielding  one 
teapot  and  Mrs.  Geraint  another.  Talk  ran  high. 

Mrs.  Verulam  stood  in  the  doorway  and  looked  round 
her. 

"  So  glad  you  waited  for  me,"  she  said  at  last,  with  an 
irrepressible  laugh. 

"  Oh  !  is  that  you  ?  Come  in,"  cried  Lady  Lucy  gra- 
ciously. "  I  think  there  is  some  left,"  cautiously  shaking 
the  lovely  little  teapot  she  held  from  side  to  side,  as  if 
listening  for  a  sound  within,  "  if  so,  you  are  in  luck.  The 
last  cup's  always  the  strongest." 

"  We  waited,  you  know,"  explained  Mrs.  Dameron,  the 
novelist's  wife,  a  charmingly  pretty  little  woman,  without  an 
ounce  of  brains,  "  until — until * 


MAEVEL.  157 

"The  tea  proved  too  many  for  us,"  said  Mr.  Kitts, 
coming  to  the  rescue.  "  Mrs.  Verulam,  I  haven't  had  any 
yet.  I  couldn't,  as  you  were  not  here  to  pour  it  out  for 
me." 

"  Well,  I'm  not  going  to  do  it  now,"  said  Mrs.  Verulam, 
settling  herself  cosily  into  a  huge  chair.  "  As  the  reins  ot 
government  have  slipped  through  my  fingers — as  I  am  de- 
throned— I  shall  expect  to  be  waited  upon,  and  taken  care 
of  for  this  night,  at  all  events." 

"  Am  I  to  do  all  the  waiting  and  caring  ?  "  asked  Kitts. 
"All  by  myself?  What  joy!  What  triumph  !"  He  tripped 
over  a  stool  as  he  spoke,  and  fell  into  her  lap.  "  Dear  me  ! 
Bless  me !  What  the  dooce !"  ejaculated  he,  as  he  scrambled 
up  again. 

"  Thanks.  I  don't  believe  I'd  enjoy  being  cared  for,  or 
waited  upon,"  said  Mrs.  Verulam  rather  indignantly,  "if 
that's  a  specimen  of  your  style.  Get  me  my  tea,  please,  and 
stand  far  away  when  you  are  handing  it  to  me."  Then  sud- 
denly :  "Where  is  Marvel?"  She  addressed  the  question 
generally,  and  Mrs.  Scarlett  took  upon  herself  to  answer  it. 
She  made  a  little  graceful  motion  with  her  shoulders,  pointed 
her  fan  towards  the  large  curtained  inclosure  of  the  bay 
window,  and  said  with  a  soft  laugh : 

"As  usual." 

Mrs.  \  erulam  grew  on  the  instant  furiously  angry,  but 
she  managed  a  smile.  It  was  impossible  to  mistake  Mrs. 
Scarlett's  meaning.  Behind  the  curtains  two  forms  could 
be  seen  ;  one  was,  of  course,  that  of  Savage. 

"  She  is  always  such  a  quiet  child,"  she  said.  "  One 
doesn't  know  where  to  look  for  her." 

"  No  ?  "  said  Mrs.  Scarlett.  "  /  should."  She  laughed 
again,  and  Mrs.  Dameron  joined  her,  not  seeing  the  freezing 
glance  directed  at  her  by  her  husband. 

"  Lady  Wriothesley,  may  I  get  you  some  more  tea?"  said 
Sir  George,  going  over  to  the  window,  and  deliberately 
putting  back  the  curtains. 

"Oh  !  have  you  come — and  Cicely?"  said  Marvel,  with 
the  prettiest  smile  of  utter  friendliness.  She  betrayed  no 
confusion,  and  made  no  attempt  at  leaving  the  nook  she 
was  in,  but  sat  looking  up  at  him  with  her  clear  lovely  eyes, 


ISS  MARVEL, 

her  hands  folded  on  her  lap  in  a  little  peaceful  fashion  that 
became  her,  and  had  something  of  resignation  in  it.  Her 
whole  air  disarmed  Sir  George,  who  had  felt  inclined  to  be 
angry  with  her,  for  nothing  more,  however,  than  mere  folly. 
"  Not  any  more  tea,  thank,  you,"  she  said,  and  he  dropped 
the  curtains  and  went  away. 

"Do  you  know,"  said  Savage,  when  he  had  gone,  "I  have 
never  got  accustomed  to  hear  you  called  Lady  Wriothesley. 
I  thought  of  you  as  unmarried  for  so  long,  that  I  find  a 
difficulty  in  changing  your  state  now  in  my  own  mind." 

"  I  suppose  I  didn't  look  much  like — a — well,  a  matron, 
on  that  day,"  said  Marvel,  who  always  alluded  to  her  part- 
ing with  her  husband  as  having  happened  on  "that  day." 
It  was  the  most  momentous  occasion  of  her  young  life. 

"  No.  I  wish  you  had,"  said  he  thoughtfully.  "But  I  was 
kept  quite  in  the  dark.  It  didn't  occur  tome  fora  moment 
that  you  were  anything  so  severe  as  a  married  lady.  It  was 
a  little  unkind  of  you,  wasn't  it,  to  look  so  peculiarly  un- 
attached ?  " 

"  If  I  meant  it." 

"  That  is  no  excuse.  You  should  have  guarded  against 
mistakes  of  the  kind.  Now  that  hat  you  wore.  It  was 
specially  misguiding." 

"  Well,  I'm  glad  you  didn't  know,"  said  she,  "because  if 
you  had,  I  think  you  wouldn't  ever  have  thought  about  me 
again." 

The  naivete  of  this  remark  entered  into  him.  He  was 
hard  put  to  it  not  to  indulge  in  the  desire  for  laughter  it 
awoke;  but  he  did  not  dare  to  do  it,  with  that  innocent 
face  smiling  at  him. 

"  I  don't  see  how  that  would  have  harmed  you,"  he  said 
moodily. 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Savage !  What  an  unkind  thing  to  say.  Have 
I  so  many  friends  that  I  could  afford  to  lose  one  ?  "  She 
leaned  a  little  towards  him  with  the  sweetest  reproach  upon 
her  face.  He  smiled. 

"  I  wish  you  wouldn't  call  me  that,"  he  said  tenderly. 

"Call  you  what?" 

"  By  my  surname.  You  talk  of  being  my  friend,  but 
there  is  something  horribly  unfriendly  about  that.  Now 


MAEVEL.  159 

Nigel  sounds  so  different.  And,  really,  considering  we  have 
known  each  other  for  considerably  over  a  year " 

She  laughed  gaily. 

"  A  very  barren  year,  however,"  she  said.  "  I  see  you, 
to-day,  let  us  say,  for  the  first  time,  and  I  don't  see  you 
again  for  twelve  months,  and  you  then  call  me  an  old 
friend." 

"  Why  not ! "  said  he  boldly.  "  And,  at  all  events,  why 
argue  about  it;  I  hate  going  into  things,  it  commoriizes 
them  so;  the  fact  remains  that  you  are  an  old  friend, 
whether  our  acquaintance  began  yesterday  or  in  the  Middle 
Ages.  I  don't  trouble  myself  about  the  time  I  didn't  know 
you.  I  don't  seem  to  remember  it.  I  only  learned  to  live, 

when "  He  broke  off  somewhat  abruptly,  alarmed  by 

the  somewhat  astonished  expression  that  was  growing  on 
her  face.  "  Let  us  return  to  our  first  subject,"  he  said.  "  It 
I  tell  you,  you  make  me  hate  my  surname,  what  then? 
Will  it  teach  you  to  be  merciful  ?  Mr,  Savage  !  Pah  !  It 
puts  my  teeth  on  edge.  And  you  say  it  so  coldly  too !  Why 
not  Nigel  ?  " 

"  If  you  wish  it  so  very  much,"  with  a  glance  of  open 
surprise,  "of  course  I  shall  call  you  so.  I  would  please 
you,  if  I  could,  in  a  greater  matter  than  that.  You  believe 
me,  Nigel  ?  " 

She  looked  at  him  so  sweetly  as  she  said  this ;  so  softly 
his  name  fell  from  her  lips,  that  a  terrible  longing  to  take 
her  in  his  arms  and  tell  her  how  he  loved  her — to  carry  her 
away  from  all  her  dismal  past,  almost  overpowered  him. 
But  there  is  a  difficulty  about  doing  such  things  nowadays 
in  a  crowded  room,  however  thick  may  be  the  curtains  of 
the  window,  with  the  delicate  tinkling  sound  of  the  china 
and  silver,  and  the  merry  laughter  of  the  many  out  there 
beyond,  within  a  foot  or  two  of  one's  life's  tragedy. 

"  Marvel !  "  cried  Mrs.  Verulam.  Her  voice  came  some- 
what sharply. 

"  Yes,"  cried  Marvel,  parting  the  silken  curtains  to  look 
into  the  room. 

"  Where  is  Lulu  ?  Do  you  know  ?  You  have  been  so 
long  in  that  window,  that  if  she  passed  through  the  gardens 
you  must  have  seen  her." 


160  MARVEL. 

It  was  a  gentle  hint,  but  there  is  nothing  so  obtuse  *s 
perfect  innocence. 

"  I  think  she  did  run  by  this  window  awhile  ago,"  said 
Marvel.  "  She  had  some  bread  in  her  hand  ;  I  think  she 
was  going  to  feed  something.  I  called  to  her,  but  she  would 
not  listen." 

"  Wise  child  !  Three  is  trumpery,"  said  Mrs.  Scarlett, 
lazily  rubbing  down  the  tiny  terrier  lying  in  her  lap. 

"  Lulu  is  hardly  old  enough  to  be  as  wise  as  you  would 
have  her,"  said  Mrs.  Verulam,  with  a  movement  of  her 
lips  that  meant  mischief.  Mrs.  Scarlett  knew  that  twitch 
well  and  rose  to  the  occasion. 

"  You  should  know,"  she  said,  with  a  slight  accession 
of  insolence.  "  We  must  only  conclude  then,  that  Lady 
Wriothesley's  summons  was  very  carefully  weak."  She 
tweaked  the  little  terrier's  ears  as  she  spoke,  and  it  squeaked 
noisily. 

All  this  was  unheard  by  Marvel,  who  was  still  looking 
into  the  room ;  but  the  window  was  at  a  considerable 
distance  from  the  fire,  round  which  the  rest  were  grouped, 
and  only  the  murmur  of  the  rather  subdued  tones  reached 
her  ears.  She  saw,  however,  Mrs.  Verulam's  frown,  and, 
not  being  in  the  common  secret,  put  it  down  to  anxiety  on 
the  child's  account. 

"Are  you  uneasy,  Cicely?"  she  asked  in  her  clear 
voice. 

"  Yes,  I  am  uneasy ! "  said  Mrs.  Verulam,  with  a  mean- 
ing glance  at  her,  that,  alas  !  was  thrown  away. 

"  Then  let  some  one  go  and  look  for  her,"  cried  Marvel, 
starting  to  her  feet.  She  glanced  round  uncertainly,  and 
her  eyes  fell  on  Savage.  "  Nigel,  will  you  go  ?  "  she  said. 

An  electric  thrill  ran  through  the  assembly.  Every  one 
tried  to  look  as  though  it  were  the  usual  thing  to  call  a 
young  man  of  a  few  weeks'  acquaintance  by  his  Christian 
name,  but  every  one  failed ;  Mrs.  Scarlett  half  closed  her 
eyes,  and  turned  herself,  with  a  slow,  disgusted  gesture, 
rather  away  from  the  window.  Mrs.  Verulam  felt  as  if  she 
would  have  given  a  good  deal  to  be  able  to  burst  out  cry- 
ing ;  but  she  was  worth  more  than  to  give  way  to  such 
damning  folly  as  that. 


MARVEL.  161 

"With  bread  in  her  hand,"  she  said,  as  if  musing. 
"That  would  mean  the  fish.  Well,  we  must  only  hope 
she  won't  fall  into  the  carp  pond,  or  otherwise  distinguish 
herself!" 

"  Nigel,  I  really  think  you  had  better  go,"  said  Marvel 
again,  in  a  distressed  tone,  whereon  the  general  conster- 
nation waxed  greater. 

"  I  really  think  he  had  !  "  said  Mrs.  Scarlett,  in  a  mild 
tone,  that  made  most  present  smile,  and  reduced  Mrs. 
Verulam  to  despair.  Then  began  what  would  have  been 
a  deadly  silence,  but  that  providentially  at  this  moment  the 
door  was  flung  wide,  and  no  less  a  person  than  Miss  Verulam 
herself  was  placed  inside  the  doorway  by  the  long-suffering 
woman  who  called  herself  her  nurse. 

She  was  dressed  in  a  little  white  lace  frock,  and  had  a 
big  pink  sash  tied  round  her  waist.  She  was  evidently  at 
enmity  with  her  clothes,  but  she  looked  for  all  that,  a  very 
angel.  She  skipped  past  Mr.  Kitts,  who  would  fain  have 
caught  her,  and  flinging  herself  bodily  upon  Sir  George, 
clambered  boldly  into  his  arms.  Even  whilst  she  clambered 
she  talked  at  Kitts  over  her  friend's  shoulder. 

"  No,  I  won't,"  she  said,  "  I  won't  go  to  you.  I'll  go  to 
my  Georgie  boy."  Nothing  would  induce  [her  to  call  the 
dignified  Sir  George  by  any  other  name  but  this.  "  And  I 
won't  kiss  you,  either.  No,  not  for  sweeties,  nor  for  dolls, 
nor  for  anything.  But  I'll  kiss  my  Georgie  boy."  She 
suited  the  action  to  the  word ;  and  then  slipped  down  on 
his  knee,  and  pulled  out  his  watch.  But,  unfortunately, 
the  fact  that  Sir  George  had  not  smiled  when  he  returned 
her  kiss  had  attracted  her  attention.  "Why  don't  you 
laugh,"  she  said,  trying  to  dig  up  his  cheeks  into  a  risible 
expression  with  her  fat  little  finger.  "  Are  you  sorry  about 
something?  You're  always  sorry  now,  and  mammy  says 
it  is  because  you  aren't  loved  enough.  Is  that  true  ?  " 

"  Fatally  true  ! "  said  Sir  George,  with  a  rather  con- 
strained laugh.  He  knew  that  he  had  changed  colour,  and 
drew  the  child  closer  to  him  that  he  might  hide  his  chagrin. 
He  did  not  dare  look  at  Cicely  with  all  the  curious  eyes 
in  the  room  upon  him,  but  even  if  he  had,  he  could  not 
have  seen  her.  She  had  pushed  back  her  chair  into  a 

ii 


162  MARVEL. 

shadowed  corner,  and  with  the  help  of  a  huge  Japanese  fan, 
was  hiding  her  crimson  cheeks  from  observation. 

"Very  well,  then,  /'//  love  you,"  said  the  little  one 
fondly.  She  threw  her  arms  round  his  neck  and  kissed 
him.  "  Are  you  better  n  DW  ?  "  asked  she  anxiously.  It 
was  impossible  to  be  serious  after  that.  Mr.  Kitts  led  the 
way  and  every  one  roared.  Marvel  came  from  behind  her 
curtains,  and  the  child  seeing  her,  ran  to  her,  and  claimed 
her  for  her  own. 

"  Very  well,  Miss  Lulu,  all  right,"  said  Mr.  Kitts,  shaking 
his  fist  at  her,  as  she  stood  nestled  into  Marvel's  side. 
"  You  can  behave  as  you  think  proper,  of  course,  and  so 
can  I.  You  can-  bestow  all  your  good  gifts  upon  people 
utterly  worthless,"  indicating  Sir  George  by  a  wave  of  the 
hand,  "upon  a  ghoul — a  feeder  on  human  bones — a " 

"  My  dear  Kitts  ! "  protested  Sir  George  mildly. 

"  But  I  can  do  something,  too  !  Christmas  is  approach- 
ing, and  I  know  of  a  doll  with  the  bluest  eyes  and  the 
yellowest  hair,  and  the  queenliest  robes,  that  I —  ska' n't  give 
you!" 

"  I  don't  care  !"  said  Miss  Verulam  stoutly,  but  she  did 
for  all  that.  By  degrees  she  edged  away  from  Marvel,  and 
towards  Kitts,  skirting  ever  nearer  and  nearer  to  him,  and 
glancing  at  him  through  her  sunny  hair,  until  at  last  she  was 
close  enough  to  permit  of  his  seizing  upon  her  bodily,  when, 
with  a  great  pretence  at  reluctance,  she  let  herself  willingly 
be  caught. 

"  Do  you  think  it  is  quite  right  to  speak  to  a  child  in  that 
fashion  ?  "  piped  Mrs.  Geraint  volubly.  "  Even  at  that  tender 
age  their  perception  is  so  clear.  When  I  was  little  more 
than  Lulu's  age  I  wrote  my  '  Ode  to  Mortality,'  but  of 
course  all  children  could  not  be  expected  to  be  so  advanced. 
They  used  to  say  I  was  one  in  a  thousand." 

"  One  in  ten  thousand,"  said  Dameron  politely,  adding 
in  a  tone  that  reached  Mrs.  Verulam  only,  "  for  that,  at 
least,  let  us  be  duly  grateful." 

"Oh,  to  be  earnest,"  gasped  Mrs.  Geraint,  "that  is 
everything  !  to  be  intense ;  to  th  nk  always !  I  hope  you 
are  earnest." 

She  addressed  Mrs.  Dameron,  whereon  that  ridiculous 


MAKVEL.  163 

person  giggled  merrily,  and  shook  her  pretty  head  so  hard, 
that  one  readily  guessed  there  was  nothing  in  it. 

"  What  for  ?  "  she  asked,  "  to  be  earnest  means  to  grow 
grey  hairs  in  a  hurry.  They  will  come  soon  enough  without 
beseeching  them.  There  is  Lady  Wriothesley,  why  don't 
you  ask  her,  she  looks  intense  enough  for  anything.  Are 
you  earnest,  Lady  Wriothesley  ?  " 

Marvel  had  not  been  attending. 

"  In  earnest — about  what  ? "  she  asked,  mistaking  the 
question. 

"  Anything  and  everything." 

"Everything — oh,  let  us  hope  not,"  said  Mrs.  Scarlett 
significantly.  She  cast  a  swift  glance  at  Savage,  as  if  to 
accentuate  her  words. 

"  But  that  is  how  it  should  be,"  persisted  Mrs.  Dameron. 
"  I  assure  you,  Lady  Wriothesley,  there  is  trouble  in  store 
for  you,  if  you  won't  attend  to  Mrs.  Geraint's  advice.  She 
has  undertaken  a  mission,  and  she  desires  you  as  a  convert. 
She  is  growing  quite  unhappy  about  you:  you  must  try  to 
be  earnest  if  only  to  comfort  her." 

"  Unhappy  ?  surely  there  is  no  occasion  to  be  unhappy 
about  Lady  Wriothesley  yet  I"  said  Mrs.  Scarlett,  with  a 
faint  yawn. 

"True,"  said  Savage  nonchalantly,  who  had  come  over  to 
take  her  cup  from  her.  "  It  would  be  folly  to  pity  a  being 
so  favoured."  He  spoke  very  low. 

"  By  you  ?  "  she  asked,  as  if  finishing  his  sentence.  "  It 
is  an  honour,  no  doubt,  to  have  you  at  one's  feet !"  She 
did  not  seek  to  hide  the  sneer  that  accompanied  her  words. 
Looking  at  her,  he  wondered  how  it  was  he  had  ever  been 
at  her  feet. 

"  By  nature,  I  meant,"  he  said. 

"You  do  not  however  deny  that  you  are  her  slave." 

"  Why  should  I  ?  Alas,  that  I  am  only  one  amongst  so 
many  !  "  He  spoke  lightly,  but  he  had  a  shaft  in  his  quiver 
for  her  still.  "  She  only  wants  a  season  in  town,"  he  said, 
"  to  have  all  men  at  her  feet ! "  He  bowed,  and  turned 
aside,  smiling — not  so  much  at  his  prediction,  as  at  the 
look  of  passionate  mortification  it  had  brought  into  her 
face. 

II 2 


164  MARVEL. 

"There  sits  a  dethroned  queen,"  he  thought  to  himself, 
as  he  crossed  the  room  to  where  Marvel,  the  new  queen, 
stood. 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

"  The  world  with  calumny  abounds, 
The  whitest  virtue,  slander  wounds  : 
There  are  those  whose  joy  is  night  and  day 
To  talk  a  character  away." 

"  Is  he  coming  again  this  afternoon  ? "  asked  Mrs. 
Verulam  with  an  entirely  false  astonishment.  Considering 
Mr.  Savage  had  come  every  afternoon  for  the  past  three 
weeks  without  comment,  it  was  quite  a  remarkable  thing 
that  she  should  now  betray  surprise  at  his  frequent  visiting. 

"  This  afternoon  ?  "  said  Marvel  (the  astonishment  was 
honest  this  time).  "  I  think  it  would  be  far  more  remark- 
able if  he  didn't  come,  than  if  he  did.  Pie  is  always  here, 
isn't  he?" 

Mrs.  Verulam  looked  at  her.  If  she  understood  she  was 
the  calmest  young  woman  she  had  ever  met ;  if  not,  the 
sooner  she  did  the  better.  It  was  quite  early,  directly  after 
breakfast,  and  she  had  Marvel  all  to  herself  for  a  wonder. 
The  others  were  scattered  all  over  the  place,  amusing  them- 
selves as  best  suited  them. 

"  Yes.  He  is,"  said  Cicely  a  little  tartly.  "  He  lives 
here,  it  seems  to  me." 

"  I  thought  you  liked  him." 

"  So  I  do.  But  not  enough  to  make  me  blind  to  your 
interests."  This  was  a  bold  stroke,  and  Marvel  followed 
it  up. 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  that  ?  "  she  asked.  She  came 
over  and  sat  down  on  the  ottoman  close  by  Cicely,  and 
took  her  hand.  "You  want  to  say  something  to  me," 
she  said.  "  Why  don't  you  do  it  ?  " 

"  Because  it  is  so  hard  to  say  things,"  said  Mrs.  Verulam, 
feeling  rather  inclined  to  cry.  "  And  to  you  of  all  people, 
because — look  here,  darling,  it's  horrid  of  me  to  put  it 
into  words,  I  know,  but  don't  carry  it  too  far.  " 


MAEVEL.  165 

"Carry  what?"  asked  Marvel  with  the  sinccrest  be- 
wilderment. 

"  Oh  !  I  don't  think  you  ought  to  meet  me  like  that. 
With  me,  at  least,  you  might  be  open.  If  /  am  not  your 
friend,  Marvel,  who  is  ?  " 

"  Who  indeed ! "  said  Lady  Wriothesley,  with  some 
distress.  "  And  if  I  only  knew  what  it  was  all  about — 
why  you  were  scolding  me  I  mean — I  should " 

"Tell  me  this,"  said  Mrs.  Verulam  sharply.  "Or 
rather,"  nervously,  "dorit  tell  me,  that — that  you  have 
any  foolish  fancy  for  Nigel  Savage." 

"  For  Mr.  Savage  !  Of  course  not,"  said  Marvel.  She 
was  almost  too  surprised  to  blush.  "  What  on  earth  made 
you  think  that  ?  " 

"Why  on  earth  shouldn't  I  think  it,  you  mean,"  said 
Mrs.  Verulam  with  a  touch  of  impatience.  "  One  should  be 
blind  and  deaf  and  dumb  not  to  think  it.  So  you  aren't 
in  love  with  him  ?  " 

"  Do  you  forget  ?  "  said  Marvel  in  a  little  hushed  way, 
that  made  Mrs.  Verulam  rather  angry. 

"  Well,  all  I  can  say  is,"  she  exclaimed,  "  that  if  you  are 
as  indifferent  as  you  declare  yourself,  you  oughtn't  to  flirt 
with  him  as  you  do."  The  murder  was  out  now,  and  she 
waited  somewhat  anxiously  for  what  Marvel  should  say  or 
do  next. 

"  Flirt  with  him  !  "  she  said.  She  grew  very  pale,  and 
her  large  eyes  looked  out  at  Mrs.  Verulam  with  a  certain 
horror  in  their  calm  depths. 

"  I  don't  know,  of  course,  what  you  call  it,"  said  Cicely. 
"  I  suppose  you  have  a  more  poetic  or  aesthetic  name 
for  it;  but  if  /  were  to  let  a  man  sit  in  my  pocket  all 
day,  as  you  do,  and  look  at  me  as  if  he  longed  to  devour 
me,  I  know  what  all  my  dear  friends  and  relatives  would 
call  it." 

"  Cicely  !     Do  you  know  what  you  are  saying  ?  " 

"And  who  should,  if  I  shouldn't?  "  said  the  fair  Cicely, 
driven  to  pertness  through  fear  of  those  injured  eyes  fastened 
on  hers.  "  I  believe  you,  of  course.  I  believe  you  as  inno- 
cent as  the  babe  unborn  of  any  suspicion  of  coquetry,  or 
spooning,  or  anything.  I'll  even  believe  you  don't  know 


166  MARVEL. 

the  man  is  madly  in  love  with  you.  But  I  tell  you  what, 
my  good  child,  when  that  Savage  of  yours,  that  fire  eater 
(they're  all  half-mad,  the  Savages;  perhaps  I  should  have 
told  you  that  at  first)  discovers,  one  of  these  days,  that  you 
have  been  meaning  nothing  all  this  while,  in  spite  of  your 
rapt  looks  and  your  baby  poses,  he  will  slay  you  alive  ! 
When  that  hour  comes,  I  honestly  confess  I  wouldn't  be 
you  for  a  round  crown.  He  won't  leave  so  much  as  a  bone 
of  you  to  tell  the  tale." 

"  I  wish  you  wouldn't  speak  to  me  like  that,"  said 
Marvel.  "  It  is  hateful  of  you.  It  is  wicked." 

"  Fiddle-de-dee,"  said  Mrs.  Verulam.  "  /';;/  not  Nigel, 
so  you  need  not  waste  powder  on  me.  You  are  angelic 

with  those  tears  in  your  eyes,  I  know,  but "  Here  she 

paused  and  changed  her  tone  completely.  "Well!  you 
are  the  prettiest  thing,"  she  said,  with  heartfelt  admiration. 
"  I  declare  I  don't  blame  any  man  for  making  a  thorough 
fool  of  himself  about  you.  It  is  the  greatest  pity,  /  know, 
that  you  are  tied  to  that  abominable  cousin  of  mine,  or  you 
might  make  the  biggest  match  of  the  year." 

"  I  don't  want  to  make  any  match,  and  I  don't  wish  to 
be  accused  of — of  encouraging  any  one,"  said  Marvel,  still 
very  white.  "I  know  you  mean  that  Mr.  Savage  is — in 
love  with  me — but  it  is  not  true.  It  is  false — -false  ! " 
with  a  little  irrepressible  stamp  of  her  foot.  "  Oh  !  how 
could  you  think  that,  Cicely?  You,  my  friend!  It  was  the 
cruellest  thing  of  you." 

"  It  was  not,"  said  Cicely  quickly.  "  It  was  the  most 
natural  thing,  you  mean.  And  of  course  if  you  don't  care 
for  -him  no  more  need  be  said  about  it.  But  it  was  my 
duty  to  warn  you.  Bad  as  Fulke  is  proving  himself  to  be, 
careless  as  he  is,  I  should  not  like,  when  he  left  you  in  my 
care,  to — to  be  told  by  him  on  his  return  that  I  had  failed 
in  the  trust  he  had  reposed  in  me.  I  have  been  very 
unhappy  for  a  long  time,  and  I  only  spoke  now  for  your 
good.  If  you  are  going  to  be  angry  with  me  for  speaking, 
it  will  be  very  unjust  and  ungenerous. of  you." 

"  I  would  not  be  that,"  said  Marvel,  large  drops  standing 
warm  within  her  eyes. 

"  Tell  me,"  said  Mrs.  Verulam,  taking  her  hand.      "  In 


MARVEL,  167 

spite  of  all  that  has  happened,  all  that  you  know,  do  you 
still  love  your  husband  ?  " 

"  How  can  I  answer  you  ?  "  said  Marvel  tremulously. 
"  Of  love,  the  love  of  which  you  speak,  I  knew  nothing 
until  I  came  to  you  and  mixed  with  your  world.  Now  I 
know  that  something  more  is  required  to  make  life  perfect 
than  the  calm,  childish,  unreasoning  affection  I  had  for 
Fulke  when  I  married  him."  She  stopped,  and  Mrs. 
Verulam  pressed  her  hand. 

"  Tell  me  all,"  she  entreated.  "  Have  you  ever  thought 
whether  this  stronger  affection  that  you  speak  of  is  also 
given  to  Wriothesley  ?  " 

"  How  can  I  be  sure  ?  "  said  the  girl  mournfully.  "  I  don't 
know  whether  I  love  Fulke  as  I  should  love  him,  but  this  I 
do  know,  that  I  love  no  other  man." 

"  Well,  that's  a  satisfaction,  at  all  events,"  said  Mrs. 
Verulam  briskly.  "  But  for  all  that,  and,  indeed,  specially 
because  of  that,  you  should  be  careful.  When  Fulke  returns, 
you  would  not  like  him  to  hear  little  ill-natured  tales  of  you, 
and — there  are  so  many  evil  tongues  in  the  world." 

"  You  mean  Mrs.  Scarlett,"  said  Marvel,  who  was  al- 
ways terribly  downright.  "  Yes,  I  know  I  must  expect 
only  enmity  from  her." 

"  I  hope  you  are  not  angry  with  me  for  speaking  to  you, 
Marvel." 

"Angry,  no.  I  am  glad  you  told  me.  It  is  well,  I 
suppose,  to  know  the  evil  things  that  are  being  said  of  one." 

"  Don't  speak  like  that,  and  don't  look  so  down  on  your 
luck.  Just  be  a  little  careful,  and  no  one  can  dare  say  a 
word,  not  even  that  viper  in  petticoats,  Leonie  Scarlett. 
Come,  cheer  up,  or  they  will  all  think  I  have  been  scolding 
you." 

"  Well,  so  you  have." 

"  Not  a  bit  of  it.  I  would  not  dare  to  scold  your  lady- 
ship. And  I  want  you  to  look  your  loveliest  to-day,  as 
half  the  county  is  coming  to  tennis  in  the  afternoon." 

"  There  is  one  thing,"  said  Marvel  nervously.  "  I  don't 
know  how  I  shall  ever  look  Mr.  Savage  in  the  face  again. 
Oh,  Cicely  ! "  with  growing  distress,  "  do  you  think  he 
knows,  has  he  heard,  what  people  have  been  saying  ?  " 


i68  MARVEL. 

"  How  you  run  away  with  things !  I  have  heard  nobody 
say  anything,  and,  of  course,  neither  has  Nigel.  I  merely 
wished  to  give  you  a  hint  as  to  what  might  be  said,  and 
you  are  making  a  regular  mountain  out  of  it.  If  you 
intend  to  change  your  manner  to  Nigel  now,  you  will 
only  cause  double  comment.  For  goodness'  sake  do  be 
rational  and  sensible,  and  don't  act  like  a  mere  baby. 
Now  look  here ! "  said  Mrs.  Verulam,  who  had  by  this 
time  worked  herself  into  a  fine  frenzy,  "  if  you  are  going 
to  cry,  I  shall  go  to  my  bed  and  leave  you  to  entertain 
the  county.  You  won't  like  that.  I'm  downright  sorry 
I  spoke  at  all  and  didn't  let  you  give  yourself  over  bodily 

a  prey  to  the  sharks  of  society ! Oh  !  no,  I  dont"  with 

swift  contrition.  "Darling  child,  don't  believe  a  word  I 
have  said." 

"  I  shall  try  to  be  just  the  same  to  Mr.  Savage  to-day 
as  usual.  But  I  know  I  couldn't  keep  it  up,  Cicely,  so 
I  shall  go  away  up  to  the  place  in  the  north,  to  Ringwood 
Abbey.  And,  perhaps,  when  you  have  got  rid  of  your 
guests  here,  you  will  come  and  stay  with  me  for  a  while  ?  " 

"  Oh  !  Marvel,  1  have  driven  you  away  from  me." 

"  You  are  the  only  person  on  earth  who  is  really  kind 
to  me.  Mr.  Savage  has  been ;  but  it  seems  I  must  not 
accept  friendship  at  his  hands.  And  you  know  yourself 
it  is.  better  I  should  go." 

"Well,  perhaps  so,"  said  Mrs.  Verulam  with  a  sigh. 

She  felt  as  though  some  impending  misfortune  was 
hanging  over  her,  as,  indeed,  the  loss  of  Marvel,  who  had 
grown  wonderfully  dear  to  her,  might  be  called.  She  went 
about  all  the  morning  in  a  pining  fashion,  and  at  luncheon 
sent  away  plate  after  plate  untasted.  Sir  George,  who  was 
present,  noticed  this  in  his  silent  way,  and  was  harassed 
with  doubts  and  fears  as  to  what  was  the  cause  of  her 
evident  dejection. 

As  the  afternoon  deepened  all  the  terraces  and  lawns 
grew  gay  with  the  many-coloured  garments  of  the  guests, 
who  drove  over  in  skittish  coaches  and  solemn  barouches, 
respectable  landaus  and  modest  T-carts  to  attend  on  Mrs. 
Verulam.  There  was  quite  a  small  regiment  of  men  from 
the  barracks  in  the  next  town,  and  a  very  large  regiment  of 


MAEVEL.  169 

girls  of  all  sizes  and  ages  from  the  neighbourhood  around. 
Lord  Castlerock  drove  over  quite  a  bevy  of  his  own  people, 
and  Michael  Davenant,  the  new  M.P.  in  the  Conservative 
interest,  who  was  just  then  being  brought  a  good  deal  into 
notice  on  account  of  his  oratorical  powers,  brought  his  wife 
a»d  three  daughters.  Mrs.  Davenant  had  all  the  remains 
of  great  beauty,  but  the  daughters  were  all  like  their  father, 
— blond,  freckled,  impossible. 

"  Are  those  the  Davenants  ?  "  asked  Sir  George,  putting 
up  his  glass. 

"  So  I'm  told,"  answered  Dameron.  "  It's  well  to  know, 
isn't  it  ?  I  feel  as  if  I'd  had  as  much  of  an  introduction  to 
them  as  I  shall  ever  want." 

"  Beauty  don't  run  riot  amongst  'em,  it  must  be  con- 
fessed," said  Kitts  mournfully.  "  If  they  were  my  offspring 
I  should  put  their  heads  in  bags." 

"  Yet  their  mother,  when  Dora  Forsyth,  was  an  acknow- 
ledged belle,"  said  Lady  Lucy.  "  I  remember  her  well  when 
I  was  in  the  schoolroom ;  she  had  the  imprudence  to  marry 
a  man  without  a  feature,  and,"  with  a  shrug  of  her  ample 
shoulders,  "what  will  you?  Those  hopelessly  ugly  girls 
are  the  result.  But  the  featureless  man  had  golden  charms, 
and  besides  that,  he  is  clever.  Fossbrooke  says  he  will 
carry  all  before  him  now." 

"  I'm  glad  he  thought  of  it  in  time,"  said  Mrs.  Dameron 
disdainfully,  who,  though  she  quarrelled  with  him  inces- 
santly, could  not  endure  hearing  any  other  man  accredited 
with  clever  qualities  except  her  husband.  "  Is  he  so  won- 
derfully clever  ?  He  has  a  head  like  a  wooden  horse." 

"Clever!  it's  no  name  for  it,"  said  Kitts,  "he  is  that 
sharp  he  could  tell  what  you  were  writing  if  he  only  heard 
the  scratch  of  your  pen.  He  is  going  to  play  Old  Harry 
with  the  new  bill." 

At  this  moment  Mrs.  Verulam  passed  by  them,  and  Sir 
George  went  to  meet  her.  She  was  looking  very  pensive 
for  tier,  and  though  walking  with  a  tall  angular  man,  was 
hardly  listening  to  what  he  was  saying.  As  Sir  George 
reached  her,  she  was  giving  some  message  to  the  tall  man 
who  hurried  off  to  deliver  it. 

"  I  have  so  wanted  to  speak  to  you,"  said  Sir  George  in 


170  MARVEL. 

his  deliberate  way.  "  I  am  anxious  to  know  what  has 
occurred  to  trouble  you." 

"You  presuppose  a  good  deal;  in  the  first  place,  how  do 
you  know  I  am  troubled  at  all  ?  " 

"  I  haven't  studied  you  for  four  years  for  nothing,"  said 
he  calmly.  "  And  besides  your  face  is  a  tell-tale :  and 
another  thing,  you  ate  such  a  bad  luncheon." 

"  Was  it  bad  ?  "  said  she.  "  Oh  !  I  am  so  sorry.  And 
I  was  beginning  to  hope  that  this  cook " 

"  Pshaw  !  "  interrupted  he.  "  You  know  very  well  what 
I  mean ;  but  if  I  am  not  to  be  allowed  to  help  you — why, 
that  is  of  course  all  about  it." 

"  You  help  me,"  said  she  with  indignant  reproach, 
"  when  the  whole  thing  is  all  your  fault !  No,  thank  you." 

"  Good  heavens !  what  have  I  done  now  ?  "  said  that 
injured  man. 

"Well,  I  hope  you  are  satisfied  at  the  result  of  your 
advice.  I  took  it,  and  I  am  now  the  most  miserable 
woman  alive.  I  knew  I  should  be.  I  knew  if  I  listened 
to  anything  you  could  say,  I  should  be  wretched  ever 
after." 

"  Cicely,  do  you  know  what  you  are  saying  ?  What  on 
earth  has  happened  ?  " 

"  It  is  all  very  well  for  you  to  look  so  virtuously  innocent, 
but  the  fact  remains  that  you  have  turned  Marvel  out  of 
my  house." 

"  My  dear  girl,  I  haven't  said  a  word  to  Lady  Wriothesley 
for  days  beyond  '  how  d'ye  do.'  You  have  got  some  absurd 
notions  mixed  up  in  your  head." 

"  I  shall  trouble  you  not  to  call  me  absurd.  Do  you 
deny  that  you  advised  me  to  speak  to  Marvel  about  the 
attentions  of  that  odious  Nigel  ?  Come  now,  do  you  deny 
that  ? — Do  you  ?  " 

"  I  have  a  vague  remembrance  of  having  said  it  would  be 
a  good  thing  if  Lady  Wriothesley  was  more  on  her  guard — 
but  as  to  having  advis " 

"  Equivocation  ! "  interposed  Mrs.  Verulam  with  fine 
contempt. 

"  Abuse  me  as  you  will,"  said  he  with  a  resigned  shrug. 
"  I  am  accustomed  to  it ;  but  at  the  same  time  tell  me 


MARVEL.  171 

how  all  this  has  come  to  pass;  I  conclude  you  spoke 
to  Lady  Wriothesley,  and  she  resented  your  interference, 
and " 

"  Wrong,  entirely  wrong  ;  Marvel  has  the  temper  of  an 
angel,  and  resented  nothing.  But  she  thinks  it  wiser  to  go, 
and,"  sighing,  "  perhaps  it  is.  After  a  little  while  I  shall 
follow  her." 

"Whereto?" 

"  Ringwood  Abbey." 

"  Ah  ! "  said  Sir  George.  He  appeared  sunk  in  un- 
pleasant thought  for  a  minute  or  two,  and  then  brightened. 
"There  is  capital  shooting  in  the  north,"  he  said.  Mrs. 
Verulam  gave  way  to  mirth. 

"  If  you  expect  Marvel  to  give  you  an  invitation  to  her 
house  you  are  entirely  out  of  it,"  she  said.  "  I  shan't  give 
her  a  hint,  I  assure  you." 

"  Who  is  making  me  out  so  inhospitable  ?  "  said  Marvel 
herself  at  this  instant.  "  So  you  know  of  my  intended 
flight,  Sir  George,"  with  a  shy  glance  at  him  and  a  blush. 
"And  you  want  to  test  my  covers  ?  Come  then  ;  I  at  least 
will  promise  you  the  heartiest  of  welcomes." 

"  There  !  "  said  Sir  George  with  a  triumphant  glance  at 
Cicely,  who  made  him  a  saucy  little  moue  in  return.  "  Lady 
Wriothesley,  a  thousand  thanks.  I  accept  your  kindest  of 
invitations  with  all  my  heart." 

They  had  joined  some  of  the  house  party,  and  Mrs. 
Scarlett,  who  was  amongst  them,  looked  at  Marvel. 

"  Issuing  invitations.    Are  you  leaving,  then  ?"  she  asked. 

"  Almost  directly.  I  am  anxious  for  many  reasons  to  go 
back  to  my  northern  home."  She  tried  to  speak  lightly, 
but  Mrs.  Scarlett  possessed  some  strange  influence  over 
her,  an  influence  almost  mesmeric,  that  showed  itself  in 
an  access  of  nervousness  whenever  directly  addressed  by 
her. 

"  You  go  north  ?     Why  not  south— to  The  Towers  ?  " 

"  I  prefer  to  go  to  Ringwood,"  said  Marvel,  feeling  sud- 
denly very  sad  and  lonely.  That  old  first  home  !  So  dear  ! 
so  beloved.  To  go  to  it  again  ?  Oh  !  never,  never  !  It 
would  break  her  heart,  she  thought,  to  roam  once  more 
amongst  its  rooms  and  gardens,  and  let  memory  bring  back, 


17*  MARVEL. 

with  its  too  cruel  fidelity,  all  the  sweet  dead  past,  with  its 
hopes  and  beliefs,  born  only  to  be  ruthlessly  destroyed. 

"  And  yet  I  should  have  thought  that  The  Towers  would 
have  won  the  day  in  your  esteem,"  said  Mrs.  Scarlett  in  her 
soft  tramantc  voice.  "  It  was  there,  was  it  not,  that  you 
were  wooed  and  won  ?  " 

"  It  was  there  I  was  married,"  said  Marvel  in  the  stony 
way  she  had  acquired  to  hide  her  pain.  Her  colour  faded  ; 
she  knew  with  an  agony  disproportionate  to  the  occasion 
indeed,  but  yet  not  to  be  repressed,  that  the  elder  woman 
was  looking  at  her,  and  marking,  and  exulting  in,  the 
sorrowful  confusion  that  was  overpowering  her.  She  would 
have  given  worlds  to  escape,  but  knew  not  how.  She  sat 
there,  silent,  wretched,  until  a  voice  broke  in  her  ears  that 
was  as  music  to  her  in  her  present  distress. 

"  Lady  Wriothesley !  What !  Buried  alive  in  this  stifling 
tent  ?  Come  forth,  I  pray  you,  and  seek  with  me  the  sylvan 
shades  and  groves." 

What  a  kind  voice  it  was !  Had  he  guessed  of  her 
extremity,  and  come  to  her  aid?  She  raised  her  eyes, 
and  returned  the  smile  that  Savage  gave  her  with  a  little 
sad  one  of  her  own.  She  rose  too  and  went  to  him. 


CHAPTER  XXVIIL 

u  Grief  has  measures 

Soft  as  pleasures, 
Fear  has  moods  that  hope  lies  deep  in, 

Songs  to  sing  him, 

Dreams  to  bring  him, 
And  a  red-rose  bed  to  sleep  in." 

"  HAS  she  been  amusing  herself  again  ?  "  asked  Savage, 
looking  intently  into  Marvel's  white  face  as  they  moved 
away.  "  Why*  do  you  submit  to  it  ? "  he  said  with  some 
heat.  "  Why  not  give  her  a  Roland .  for  her  Oliver,  or  if 
you  can't  do  that — I  believe,"  tenderly,  "  you  couldn't — why 
not  keep  out  of  her  way  ?  She's  a  perfect  devil,  that  woman, 
when  she  likes," 


MAKVEL.  173 

"I  am  going  to  keep  out  of  everybody's  way,"  said 
Marvel  with  a  slight  indrawing  of  her  breath.  "  I  am 
going  back  to  where  I  came  from.  To  the  north." 

"  To  that  prison  !  That  isolation  !  Oh  !  surely  not," 
cried  he.  "You  are  not  in  earnest?  It  is  but  the  im- 
pulsive thought  of  an  offended  moment?"  He  looked 
eagerly  at  her  for  confirmation  of  his  words,  but  she  shook 
her  head. 

"  I  am  indeed  going,"  she  said.     "  And  soon — at  once." 

"  You  cannot  go  at  once.     Next  week  perhaps " 

"To-morrow,"  she  said.  "But  do  not  speak  of  it  to 
any  one.  I  shall  rise  early  and  catch  the  seven  o'clock 
train,  and  be  far  away  before  breakfast.  I  am  very  anxious 
to  be  gone,  and  except  to  you  and  Mrs.  Verulam,  and, 
perhaps — yes — Lady  Lucy,  I  shall  have  no  farewells  to 
make." 

"  But  this  is  such  a  terribly  sudden  determination  you 
have  come  to.  To  leave  us  all  without  a  word  of  warning 
almost.  You,"  he  looked  at  her  keenly,  "you  must  have 
some  reason  for  it." 

"Why  should  there  be  a  reason?"  said  she  blushing 
faintly.  "Have  you  never  longed  to  get  away  to  fresh 
fields  ?  And  that  old  place  up  there  in  the  north  is  very 
lovely,  I  can  tell  you,  in  the  autumn,  and  besides " 

"  You  needn't  go  on,"  said  he  gloomily.  "  You  do  it 
very  badly.  Of  course  it  was  not  to  be  expected  that  you 
would  do  it  well — you  to  whom  truth  is  as  the  breath  you 
breathe.  No.  It  is  for  some  reason  that  hurts  you  that 
you  are  leaving  us."  She  grew  a  little  paler. 

"  If  such  a  reason  exists,"  she  said,  "  I  pray  you  do  not 
ask  to  learn  it." 

"I  have  no  right  to  ask.  I  know  that.  But  if  you 
could  only  trust  me  as  your  friend,  I  might " 

"Ah!  my  friend.  That  is  what  you  must  not  be,"  said 
she,  catching  at  the  word.  When  she  had  spoken  she 
knew  she  had  made  a  fatal  slip,  but  she  did  not  know  how 
to  correct  it,  or  explain  it  away,  and  could  only  stand 
before  him  confused  and  miserable. 

"  I  see,"  said  he.  He  was  silent  for  awhile,  and  then— 
"  So  the  gossiping  tongues  of  those  infer those  women 


174  MARVEL. 

have  driven  you  into  exile?  May  I  ask  what  was  the 
exact  charge  ?  " 

"  I  was  told — I  heard— what  I  mean  is,"  said  she  desper- 
ately, "  that  every  one  is  saying  you  are  in  love  with  me  !  " 

"  Well  ?  "  said  he.  The  colour  had  forsaken  his  cheek, 
and  he  looked  so  deadly  white  that  she  grew  frightened. 
Was  he  angry  ?  No  wonder,  too,  if  he  was ! 

"  It  is  absurd,"  she  said  hastily.  "  I  know  that  as  well 
as  you  do.  I  could  have  laughed  at  Cicely  when  she  told 
me — only — only  I  was  too  upset  by  it.  It  is  the  most 
ridiculous  story  ever  invented,  but  you  see  people  insist 
on  thinking  it." 

"And  you?"  said  he.  He  could  hardly  frame  the 
words,  yet  he  felt  as  if  he  should  ask  the  question. 

"  I  ?  "  she  said  as  if  hardly  understanding,  and  then  she 
knew,  and  the  blood  rushed  in  a  tumult  to  her  face,  and 
her  eyes  filled  with  tears  of  shame.  " Oh  surely,  surely" 
she  said,  "  you  cannot  think  that  /  ever  believed  so  false  a 
tale.  I,  who  know  you  so  well.  Oh  !  indeed  I  am  not 
surprised  that  you  are  angry  about  it.  But  not  with  me ; 
you  should  not  blame  me ;  it  is  not  my  fault  at  all.  I  can 
quite  understand  how  it  vexes  you.  To  be  accused  of 
being  in  love  with  a  woman  when  you  are  not,  and  that 
woman  married,  too !  Oh,  it  is  shameful !  But  I  have 
done  all  I  could  for  you.  I  have  assured  Cicely  that  you 
only  like  me,  as  you  like  many  others,  and  she  will  explain 
to  the  rest,  I  hope.  I'm  so  sorry  about  it.  I  feel  as  if  it  were 
all  my  fault,"  she  said,  laying  her  hand  gently  on  his  arm. 

A  desire  to  laugh  took  hold  of  him ;  a  desire  nearly 
akin  to  tears.  Did  she  know  nothing?  How  sweet  she 
was,  how  dear,  how  far  from  him.  He  took  the  pretty 
slender  hand  upon  his  arm,  and  bending  his  head  kissed  it 
reverently. 

"  Ah,  yes.  It  was  not  my  fault,  was  it  ? "  said  she, 
believing  herself  absolved  from  share  in  this  dark  con- 
spiracy against  his  peace. 

"  It  is  the  fault  of  evil  minds,"  said  he.  "  You  could 
have  nothing  to  do  with  it.  But  will'you  give  in  so  tamely 
to  a  few  spiteful  women  ?  Why  not  stay  and  brave  it  out 
and  cast  their  scandal  back  in  their  teeth  ?  " 


MARVEL.  175 

"I  could  not,"  she  said  slowly.  "It  is  very  foolish  of 
me,  I  suppose,  but  I  have  not  the  courage  for  it.  The  very 
thought  of  it  terrifies  me.  And  is  it  not  cruel,"  she  said 
with  a  little  childish  trembling  of  her  lovely  lips,  "  that  I 
may  not  have  you  for  my  friend — because — because " 

"  Your  husband  chooses  to  live  at  the  other  end  of  the 
world,"  supplied  he.  "  They  are  all  ready  to  fall  upon 
you  and  rend  you  in  pieces,  but  what  of  him  ?  Is  he  doing 
his  duty  ?  Is  he " 

"  I  cannot  let  you  speak  of  Lord  Wriothesley,"  said  she 
gently.  "  You  do  not  know  him.  You  cannot  therefore  judge 
him.  And,  in  this  matter,  he  is  not  to  be  blamed  at  all." 

"  I  will  regard  him  as  a  suffering  saint,  if  you  wish  it," 
said  he  impatiently ;  he  thought  it  a  trifle  overdrawn,  her 
defence  of  the  man  she  did  not  love.'  "Or  rather,  with 
your  permission,  I  shall  let  him  fade  from  my  mind.  The 
one  thing  that  I  must  remember  now  is  that  you  are  going 
away,  and  who  could  replace  you?"  He  spoke  with  deep 
feeling. 

"  You  are  sorry  that  I  am  going,"  said  she  sweetly.  "  I 
am  so  glad  of  that.  I  should  not  have  liked  you  to  be 
indifferent.  Ever  since  auntie's  death,  those  who  liked  me 
have  been  very  few.  You  and  Cicely  only  :  that  is,  of  those 
outside,"  she  corrected  herself  confusedly.  "Of  course, 
Lord  Wriothesley " 

"  Of  course,"  said  Savage  courteously. 

"  But  it  is  strange,  is  it  not,  how  alone  I  remain  ?  Do 
you  know,"  gazing  at  him  earnestly,  "  there  was  a  time 
when  I  began  to  fear  I  was  a  person  whom  no  one  could 
like ;  and  that  thought  was  terrible.  Then  came  you, 
and —  "  with  a  lovely,  trustful  smile  at  him — "  I  knew  I 
was  mistaken." 

Oh !  to  tell  her  how  he  loved  her !  There  arose  within 
him  a  reckless  determination  to  do  it.  To  lay  bare  to  her 
the  passionate  longings  of  his  soul.  To  compel  those 
innocent  eyes  to  fall  and  hide  themselves  away  from  his. 
To  kill  for  ever  the  childish  blessed  unconsciousness  of  evil 
(so  near,  yet  so  undreamt  of)  that  tormented  whilst  it 
charmed  him,  as  he  had  never  in  all  his  careless  life  been 
charmed  before.  But  the  serenity  of  that  smile,  still 


176  MARVEL. 

lingering  on  her  perfect  face,  conquered  him.     He  did  not 
dare  destroy  it. 

He  did  not  speak  for  a  long  time,  watching  her  in  his 
silence,  and  trying  to  fathom  the  calm  depths  of  her  eyes 
What  lay  hidden  beneath  ?  Would  she  always  be  calm  as 
this?  And  if  not,  for  whom  would  she  awake?  The 
serenity  of  her  sank  into  him  and  calmed  him  in  spite  of 
himself.  What  peace  lay  upon  her  brow  !  She  was  far 
apart  from  the  world  in  which  she  moved.  Her  lips,  so 
loving,  yet  so  cold ;  her  stainless  brow ;  her  eyes.  .  .  . 
*'  And  her  eyes  are  as  eyes  of  a  dove." 

"  Mistaken,  indeed,"  he  said,  in  answer  to  her.  But  it 
was  rather  of  himself  he  spoke.  To  have  given  his  heart 
in  this  irrevocable  way  to  an  object  so  unattainable  was, 
indeed,  the  very  madness  of  folly.  But  it  was  too  late  to 
think  of  that  now. 

"  I  shall  steal  away,"  she  said  presently,  thinking  of  her 
journey  on  the  morrow.  "  I  shall  say  good-bye  to-night,  to 
Cicely,  and  to  Lady  Lucy  and  you,  and  I  shall  think  on 
my  way  of  how  they,  the  others,  will  wonder  when  they 
hear  of  my  flight."  She  laughed  as  she  said  this,  and 
though  her  laugh  was  sorrowful  it  angered  him. 

"  You,  at  least,  are  not  sorry  to  leave  us,"  he  said.  "We 
are  all  nothing  to  you.  You  have  a  heart  of  ice." 

"  You  often  wrong  me,"  she  said  reproachfully.  "  But 
never  more  than  now.  I  am  going  only  because  I  must. 
If  I  could  I  would  gladly  stay.  If  I  were  not  married,  for 
instance,  I " 

"  Do  not  talk  of  that,"  exclaimed  he  with  some  agitation. 
Then,  as  if  he  could  no  longer  restrain  himself,  "To  make 
that  possible  I  would  give  half  my  life." 

"  Why  ?  "  said  she,  and  then,  "  I  know,  yes.  To  save 
me  from  the  unkind  comment  that  now  annoys  me.  But 
that  will  pass  away.  Indeed,  it  is  all  so  strange  that  I 
hardly  think  I  understand." 

"  No,"  said  he,  "  you  do  not  understand  at  all !  "  He 
stood  looking  moodi'.y  upon  the  ground.  He  hardly  knew 
if  he  wished  her  to  understand.  If  she  did  she  would,  he 
felt,  cease  to  be  the  Marvel  he  adored.  "  When  shall  I  see 
you  again  ?  "  he  asked  presently. 


MAEVEIX  177 

"  I  don't  know." 

"  Or  care,  it  seems  to  me.  Well,  all  the  cackling  of  all 
the  old  women  in  Europe  shall  not  prevent  my  seeing  you 
again.  Of  that  I  warn  you.  If  you  are  silly  enough  to 
give  way  to  them  I  am  not.  You  are  not  going  to  spend 
the  rest  of  your  life  at  Ringwood  Abbey,  I  suppose  ?  " 

"  I  shall  stay  there  for  some  time,"  said  she  hesitating. 

"Until  it  pleases  your  lord  and  master  to  return,  do  you 
mean?  Are  you  going  to  bury  yourself  alive  until  then? 
If  so,  I  may  as  well  bid  you  an  eternal  farewell  at  once, 
and  be  done  with  it." 

"  I  don't  know  why  you  should  speak  like  that.  Lord 
Wriothesley  may  return  at  any  moment.  He  is  just  the 
sort  of  person  to  come  when  least  expected.  Why  did  you 
say  it  ?  Do  you  think  I  am  so  hateful  to  him  that  the 
very  fact  of  my  being  here  keeps  him  from  his  home  ?  Is 
that  what  you  think  ?  "  She  was  evidently  deeply  offended 
and  wounded  by  a  suggestion  that  was  all  the  more  hurtful 
because  it  had  so  often  forced  itself  upon  her  as  a  miserable 
truth. 

"  If  I  told  you  all  I  think  about  your  husband,"  said 
Savage  recklessly,  "  I  should  offend  you  even  more  than  I 
have  already  done." 

She  sighed  deeply.  After  all  this,  these  were  the  things 
she  had  to  submit  to.  He,  Fulke,  had  placed  her  in  such 
a  position  as  laid  her  open  to  painful  sneers  and  innuendoes. 
She  looked  so  sad  that  Savage's  heart  smote  him. 

"  Forgive  me.  It  is  presumption  on  my  part  to  be  angry 
for  you,"  he  said.  "  I  shall  try  to  still  my  heart,  and  lay  a 
watch  upon  my  tongue  in  future.  So,  are  we  never  to  meet 
again  ?  " 

"I  have  half  promised  Lady  Lucy  to  go  to  her  at  Christ- 
mas," said  she  doubtfully.  "  But  I  believe,  once  the  spell 
of  utter  loneliness  grows  on  me  again,  I  shall  not  care  to 
break  its  charm." 

"  I  shall  get  myself  invited  by  Lady  Lucy  for  next 
December,  in  spite  of  that,"  said  he.  "  By-the-by,  you 
wouldn't  like  to  give  me  an  invitation  to  Ringwood,  in  the 
meantime,  would  you  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no,"  declared  she,  and  then  she  burst  out  laughing. 

12 


17*  MAKVEL. 

"Nothing  would  induce  me,"  she  said,  "so  it  is  no  use  your 
hinting."  He  laughed  too. 

"  I  expect,  even  though  you  do  call  me  your  friend,  you 
will  be  very  glad  to  see  the  last  of  me  for  some  time,"  he 
said.  "  I  have  a  vague  idea  that  I  have  been  making  myself 
more  than  ordinarily  disagreeable  ;  you  should  forgive  me, 
however.  I  have  heard  sufficient  to  make  me  unhappy 
enough  for  anything." 

"  Oh,  yes,  that  horrid  story  !  But  as  it  isn't  true,  I  don't 
think  you  ought  to  care  so  much." 

They  were  now  again  in  sight  of  one  of  the  tennis  courts, 
and  came  upon  a  party  of  lookers-on,  who  sat  on  garden 
seats,  or  anything  else  handy,  and  made  merry  over  the 
mistakes  of  the  players. 

"Is  that  you,  Marvel?"  said  Lady  Lucy  Verulam.  "  Come 
over  here  and  sit  down  beside  me.  It  is  as  good  a  thing 
as  you  are  likely  to  see,  Lord  Castlerock's  attempt  at 
tennis." 

Marvel  went  over  and  sat  down  beside  her. 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

"  As  empty  vessels  make  the  loudest  sound,  so  they  that  have 
the  least  wit  are  the  greatest  babblers." 

"  HE'S  ever  so  much  thinner  than  when  he  began,"  said  Mr. 
Kitts,  who  in  white  flannels  was  himself  a  sight  to  behold. 
He  pointed  to  where  Lord  Castlerock  stood  racket  in  hand, 
bounding  now  and  again  towards  a  ball,  but  never  by  any 
chance  hitting  one.  That  he  was  thoroughly  enjoying  him- 
self, however,  was  evident,  as  he  beamed  through  his  glasses 
at  hib  irate  partner  after  every  miss,  and  laughed  his  jolly 
laugh,  whilst  his  brow  bedewed  the  ground.  His  face  was 
crimson,  his  mouth  wide  open,  his  hair  damp. 

"  Isn't  he  a  beauty?  "  said  Mr.  Kitts. 

"There  are  few  things  so  well  calculated  to  throw  out 
the  delicate  tints  of  one's  complexion  as  tennis  on  a  broiling 


MARVEI*  179 

afternoon,"  said  Dameron  sententiously.  He  was  rolling 
the  inevitable  cigarette  between  his  fingers,  and  spoke  with 
the  slow  air  of  one  who  has  gone  thoroughly  into  a  subject, 
digested,  and  mastered  it. 

"  Yes,  how  horribly  red  he  is.  Do  you  think  it  will  be 
apoplexy  ?  "  asked  Lady  Lucy. 

"  His  complexion  certainly  leaves  a  great  deal  to  be 
desired,"  said  Kitts.  "  But  I  do  hope  if  he  is  going  to 
'bust  up'  he  won't  do  it  here.  I  hate  a  scene  of  that 
sort" 

"  Seen  it  often  ?  "  asked  Savage,  who  had  thrown  himself 
on  the  ground  midway  between  Marvel  and  Lady  Lucy. 

"  Well,  Mr.  Poyntree  is  pale  enough,  at  all  events,"  said 
the  latter,  alluding  to  the  unfortunate  young  man  who  was 
Lord  Castlerock's  partner. 

"  That's  rage.  There  will  be  murder  if  Castlerock  misses 
his  ball  again." 

"  Not  at  all.  He  was  born  so.  He  is  always  called  Sally 
by  the  other  fellows,  he  is  so  very  much  the  lady.  His  pay 
didn't  run  to  the  amount  of  razors  he  wore  out  trying  to 
raise  a  whisker  (rumour  says  he  would  be  content  with  even 
one),  and  now  he  pumice  stones  his  cheeks  every  morning, 
but  as  yet  no  hair  appeareth." 

"  Look  at  Mrs.  Pelham  !  Isn't  it  absurd  to  see  a  woman 
with  eyes  like  hers  pretending  to  play  tennis  ?  For  my  part, 
I  wonder  how  she  ever  appears  without  a  veil,"  said  Mrs. 
Dameron,  with  a  little  shrug  of  affected  horror. 

"  Didn't  you  know?  "  said  Mr.  Kitts,  leaning  confidentially 
over  her.  "Is  it  possible  !  Why,  it  was  her  passion  for 
tennis  that — er — disarranged  her  orbs.  Fact,  I  give  you  my 
word  !  She  would  go  at  it,  you  know,  morning,  noon,  and 
night ;  and  the  perpetual  looking  from  side  to  side  for  her 
balls  gave  her  that  rolling  eye  !  " 

"  Oh  !  do  try  to  learn  some  common  sense  !  "  said  Mrs. 
Dameron,  giving  him  a  smart  little  push. 

"  There  goes  Erasmus  Vine,"  said  Mrs.  Dameron, 
craning  her  neck  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  a  stout  man  dressed 
to  almost  a  painful  pitch  of  fashion,  who  was  strolling 
jauntily  by.  "  Have  you  seen  him,  Lady  Wriothesley  ?  " 

"  Yes.     What  a  strange  looking  person.     Who  is  he  ?  " 

12 — 2 


iSo  MAKVEL. 

"  Mrs.  Geraint's  brother.  Talent  runs  wild  in  that  family, 
you  see.  I  asked  him  one  day  about  it,  and  he  said  the 
germ  of  the  matter  lay  in  the  fact  that  they  were  all  '  soul/ 
She  has  a  talent  for  jingling  together  execrable  rhymes — 
he  used  to  have  a  talent  for  making  himself  remarkable  for 
his  folly.  He  was  the  aesthete  of  the  aesthetes  ;  but  "—with 
a  little  airy  wave  of  her  fingers,  "  Nous  avons  change  tout 
#/<*/" 

"  Even  to  the  cut  of  our  hair  and  our  coat,"  said  Mr. 
Kitts.  "  He  has  been  reconverted  of  late ;  has  got  back 
into  the  old  barren  groove  with  a  vengeance.  No  lilies  now, 
I  thank  you — foolish  washed-out  things  !  No  sunflowers — 
gaudy  bits  of  vulgarity  !  Nothing  now  satisfies  him  but  the 
rankest,  the  most  ultra-philistinism.  He  goes  about  with 
no  clothes  worth  speaking  about,  and 

"  Dear  Kitts  !  consider  !  "  ventured  Dameron  mildly. 

"Well.  Are  they  worth  speaking  about?  Any  fellow 
could  wear  'em,  though  I  confess  many  wouldn't.  They 
are  just  the  little  bit  too  good  to  be  anything  but  bad.  I 
hate  a  man  got  up  like  a  tailor's  advertisement !" 

"  Oh  !  is  that  it,"  said  Dameron,  with  evident  relief. 
"  I  quite  thought  you  meant  that  he  wore  none  at  all." 

"  That  would  have  been  the  other  way  round.  Would 
have  brought  him  back  to  his  standing  point  of  last  year. 
No  clothes  would  have  been  so  faithfully  pre-adamite,  so 
deliciously  pre-everything,  that  it  certainly  would  have 
counted  as  an  advanced  stage  of  culture.  No ;  he  has  so 
much  clothes  now  that  he  dresses  himself  eight  times  a  day, 
to  give  each  suit  an  airing." 

Lady  Lucy  laughed. 

"  He  used  to  go  in  heavily  for  Swinburne,  Burne  Jones, 
Browning  and  that  lot.  Pictures  and  poems  of  the  new 
era  he  alike  worshipped.  But  now  he  eschews  anything 
more  pronounced  than  Millais,  and  states  with  a  noble 
boldness  that  there  is  only  one  line  in  all  that  Browning 
wrote  worthy  of  mention." 

"  One  !    That  is  indeed  reckless ! " 

"It  occurs  in  his  '  Men  and  Women,'  I  think.  You  all 
know  it :  '  Crowded  with  culture.'  Vine  says  he  is  so 
crowded  that  he  couldn't  take  any  more,  thanks.  No,  Lady 


MARVEL.  iSl 

Lucy,  not  a  word  I  I  wouldn't  give  way  to  a  '  vile  Ameri- 
canism,' as  you  call  it,  for  the  world." 

The  day  came  to  an  end  at  last,  as  all  days  will.  When 
bedtime  arrived,  and  all  the  women  were  trooping  upstairs 
to  their  respective  rooms,  Marvel  lingered  a  little  behind  to 
say  good-night  to  Lady  Lucy  Verulam.  That  loud  and 
strong-minded  person  had  begun  by  being  civil  to  her  for 
policy's  sake,  and  had  ended  by  liking  her  for  her  own. 

"  Good-night,"  said  Marvel  in  a  low  earnest  voice,  hold- 
ing out  her  hand. 

"The  same  to  you  and  many  of  them,"  said  Lady  Lucy. 
"  I  conclude,  by  the  tragical  tone  of  you,  that  it  was  not  a 
mere  canard  of  Cicely's  when  she  told  me  you  were  going 
away  in  the  morning.  Yes  ;  I  know  it  is  a  secret.  I  am 
speaking  as  low  as  nature  will  permit ;  and  I  can  quite 
appreciate  your  abhorrence  of  explaining  matters,  and  bid- 
ding senseless  adieux  to  people  whom  you  heartily  pray  you 
never  may  meet  again." 

"  At  all  events  I  did  not  feel  like  that  towards  you,"  said 
Marvel  with  a  smile.  "  I  was  quite  determined  to  give  you 
a  good-bye,  whatever  befel."  She  paused  for  a  moment, 
and  then  said  gravely  "  You  have  been  very  kind  to  me." 

"  Pshaw !  "  said  Lady  Lucy,  "  I  know  a  lovely  answer  I 
could  make  to  that,  but  soft  speeches  are  not  in  my  line. 
Of  course  I  know  why  you  are  going ;  I  wormed  that  out 
of  Cicely,  though  I  guessed  beforehand,  as  there  is  always 
sure  to  be  some  idiotic  man  at  the  bottom  of  everything  ; 
and  as  for  Nigel  Savage,  he  isn't  by  any  means  good  enough  ! 
I  hope,"  sharply,  "  you  don't  think  of  him." 

"I  do,  indeed,  very  often,  said  Marvel  loyally.  "But 
not  as  you  mean.  All  that  is  absurd  " — she  said  with  some 
impatience — "  How  could  I,  when  I  am  married  !  " 

"  Quite  so,"  said  Lady  Lucy,  who  felt  she  wouldn't  have 
laughed  for  anything.  "  Well,  don't  stay  in  the  north  for 
ever.  You  should  divide  your  favours.  And  remember,  I 
hold  you  bound  to  me  for  Christmas." 

"  I  remember,"  said  Marvel,  who  didn't  know  how  to  say 
she  would  rather  be  released  from  that  engagement.  Her  tone 
was  rather  faint,  and  she  consoled  herself  by  thinking  that 
time  sometimes  solves  all  difficulties.  Lady  Lucy  laughed. 


182  MABVEI*. 

"  You  mean  to  try  to  get  out  of  it,"  she  said,  "  but  you 
shan't.  Don't  attempt  such  a  hopeless  task  with  me.  I 
warn  you  not  to  plead  indisposition  as  an  excuse,  as  I  shall 
neither  take  it  nor  believe  it.  And  now,  good-night,  child, 
and  good-bye  for  a  month  or  two." 

Marvel  held  out  her  hand,  but  Lady  Lucy  drew  her  to  her 
and  pressed  a  kiss  upon  her  forehead. 

"  Put  your  faith  in  Cicely,"  she  said  very  kindly,  "  she 
is  your  friend  and  she  will  advise  you  well.  She  is  a  really 
good  little  thing." 

So  they  parted  with  a  eulogism  upon  Mrs.  Verulam  which 
Marvel  cordially  indorsed. 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

"Adieu  !  I  have  too  grieved  a  heart 

To  take  a  tedious  leave." 
»  #  *  *  * 

"  Heaven  knows  how  loath  I  am  to  part  from  thee/1 

THROUGH  all  the  sweet  freshness  of  the  early  morn,  the 
music  of  the  many  birds  rang  loudly.  Marvel,  who  had 
risen  soon  after  the  day  was  fully  born,  stood  at  her  open 
window  listening  to  them.  She  felt  a  deep  regret  that  she 
was  leaving  Cicely ;  a  lesser  one,  but  still  a  regret,  that  she 
was  taking  herself  voluntarily  away  from  the  gay  life  into 
which  Cicely  had  introduced  her.  It  had  been  pleasant  to 
her,  she  acknowledged,  with  a  sigh ;  but  it  was  at  an  end. 

She  leaned  out  to  gather  some  late  roses  that  had  climbed 
so  high,  and  in  doing  so  became  aware  of  a  figure  standing 
motionless  in  the  shrubberies  over  there,  just  opposite  the 
window.  She  had  only  time  to  see  that  it  was  a  man,  and 
that  the  face  was  upturned  to  where  she  stood,  when  the 
figure  turned  abruptly  away  and  disappeared  into  a  thick 
bit  of  greenery.  She  thought  the  man  resembled  Savage  in 
form,  but  hardly  believed  he  had  been  so  disinterested  as 
to  quit  his  bed  to  bid  her  a  second  farewell.  She  hardly 
waited  indeed  to  argue  out  the  chances  for  and  against  his 


MAKVEL.  183 

so  doing,  but  gathering  her  roses  went  down  to  the  break- 
fast room. 

Cicely  was  there  awaiting  her.  She  had  got  up,  in  spite 
of  all  Marvel's  remonstrances,  to  pour  her  out  the  "stirrup 
cup,"  as  she  insisted  on  calling  the  coffee.  She  was  evi- 
dently very  much  depressed,  and  made  Marvel  promise  over 
and  over  again  that  she  would  write  a  line  to  her  the  very 
moment  of  her  arrival.  "  And  don't  let  Nigel  ask  himself 
to  Ringwood,"  she  said.  "  He  is  equal  to  anything,  I 
know ;  but  if  he  hints  at  such  a  thing  be  stone  deaf."  She 
put  in  two  or  three  words  of  wisdom  whilst  the  dull  break- 
fast that  Marvel  didn't  enjoy  was  in  course  of  not  being 
consumed,  and  at  the  last,  when  she  had  Marvel  in  her  arms, 
began  to  cry. 

"  I  shan't  go  to  the  door  with  you,"  she  said,  "  because  I 
can't  bear  servants  to  see  me  crying ;  they  are  such  a 
supercilious  lot ;  and  even  if  they  did  believe  I  was  as  truly 
sorry  as  I  am  to  lose  you,  their  sympathy  would  be  worse 
than  their  contempt.  Now,  Marvel,  if  you  don't  write  I 
shall  know  you  have  been  smashed  up  in  some  horrid  rail- 
way accident,  and  I  shall  go  and  look  for  your  remains,  and 
when  found  shall  give  them  a  scolding,  to  which  all  my 
other  tirades  shall  be  as  the  simple  cooings  of  the  dove." 

Thus  between  laughing  and  crying  she  bid  her  friend 
good-bye,  and  in  spite  of  her  horror  of  the  servants'  prying 
eyes  followed  her  to  the  hall  door,  and  saw  her  and  the 
faithful  Burton  buried  in  the  depths  of  the  family 
brougham. 

The  horses  started,  the  carriage  went  quickly  up  the 
avenue.  Just  at  the  corner,  even  as  Mrs.  Verulam  stood 
taking  a  last  look  at  it,  holding  up  her  hand  to  her  forehead 
to  shade  her  eyes  from  the  now  glowing  sun,  she  saw  a 
young  man  dart  out  of  the  side  walk  and  precipitate  him- 
self, as  it  seemed  to  her,  upon  the  front  wheels.  The  horses 
drew  up  once  more,  and  she  saw  that  it  was  Savage,  armed 
with  roses.  These  he  flung  into  the  carriage,  and,  leaning 
through  the  window,  addressed  some  eager  words  to  one 
of  the  occupants.  Even  Mrs.  Verulam,  who  tried  to  imagine 
the  best  always,  felt  it  was  hopeless  to  think  those  words 
were  addressed  to  the  discreet  Burton. 


iS4  MARVEL, 

The  words  were  short,  however,  and  indeed  the  whole 
scene  was  over  in  a  moment.  A  pretty  slender  hand  was 
extended  through'  the  window,  and  Savage,  lifting  his  hat, 
stooped  and  kissed  it.  Then  the  carriage  rolled  on  again, 
and  Savage  disappeared.  Nothing  remained  but  the 
memory  of  it,  which  was  strong  within  Mrs.  Verulam. 

"  Just  as  well  she  has  gone,  after  all,"  she  mused,  "  if  that 
was  going  to  be  the  sort  of  thing  !  It  wouldn't  have  done 
at  all ;  Nigel  is  so  hopelessly  imprudent.  Fancy  kissing  her 
hand  beneath  the  eyes  of  seventeen  windows !  Want  of 
brains  I  call  it." 


The  loneliness  of  her  northern  home  sank  deep  into 
Marvel.  She  missed  the  brightness,  the  laughter  of  the 
days  she  had  left  behind  her,  marred  though  they  were  by 
the  studied  impertinence  of  the  woman  her  husband  loved. 
Mrs.  Verulam  was  prevented  coming  to  her  until  the  last 
week  in  November,  so  that  much  time  was  given  her  to  grow 
sad,  and  disappointed  with  the  monotony  of  her  surround- 
ings. ^ 

With  Mrs.  Verulam — or  at  least  the  day  after  her  arrival 
—came  Sir  George,  to  the  former's  real  or  affected  chagrin. 
She  had  taken  honest  measures  to  prevent  his  knowing  the 
date  of  her  visit  to  Marvel,  yet  it  appeared  he  had  been 
aware  of  it  from  the  first.  She  found  some  faint  consola- 
tion in  dubbing  him  scornfully  a  private  detective. 

Cicely  brought  her  child  with  her — who  was  enchanted 
at  finding  herself  alone  with  her  mammy  and  the  two  friends 
her  childish  heart  had  elected  to  honour — and,  indeed,  for 
the  quartette  there  began  a  time  that  was  fraught  with  only 
peace  and  a  rare  content.  Sir  George  shot  all  the  day,  and 
in  the  evening  was  made  much  of  by  the  women,  whilst  the 
mouse  kept  him  from  being  utterly  spoiled  by  keeping  up  a 
running  scolding  anent  his  destruction  of  "those  poor 
lovely  birdies." 

Almost  Marvel's  first  question  had  been  as  to  Savage's 
whereabouts.  She  asked  about  him  and  discussed  him  with 
such  a  healthy  openness  as  went  farther  to  convince  Mrs. 
Verulam  of  her  indifference,  to  him  than  all  the  protestations 


MARVEL.  185 

in  the  world.  However  Nigel  himself  might  have  been 
singed  in  that  fire  through  which  they  both  had  passed, 
Marvel  at  least  had  remained  untouched  and  heart-whole. 

"  He  has  gone  south  somewhere,"  she  said,  in  answer  to 
Lady  Wriothesley's  questions.  "  To  Italy  he  told  me ;  but 
I  firmly  believe  he  has  wandered  away  to  Marseilles  to  see 
again  that  musty  railway  station  where  first  his  eyes  fell  on 
you." 

At  this  Marvel  laughed,  treating  it  as  a  mere  joke,  though 
Mrs.  Verulam  was  more  than  half  in  earnest.  In  her 
opinion  he  was  infatuated  enough  for  anything. 

She  stayed  until  the  second  week  in  December,  and  then 
told  Marvel  she  had  been  commissioned  by  Lady  Lucy  to 
bring  her  down  with  her  to  Verulam  Court. 

"  No  refusal  will  be  accepted,"  she  said,  "  and  your  word 
is  given  ;  so  get  Burton  to  see  to  your  things  at  once.  Did 
you  really  believe  I  should  let  you  vegetate  here  ?  Oh  !  And 
Marvel,  on  our  way  through  town  you  must  come  with  me 
to  a  ball  that  is  to  be  given  by  the  Marchioness  of  Elaine 
— Lucy's  mother.  It  is  to  be  a  very  special  affair,  and  only 
very  special  people  will  be  present.  It  is  to  be  given  in 
honour  of  a  foreign  prince  who  is  being  pretty  well  toadied 
now  in  the  inner  circles  of  all,  and  two  if  not  three  of  our 
own  royalties  will  also  be  present.  Lady  Elaine  said  she 
would  be  only  too  charmed  to  receive  you,  and  Lucy  has 
set  her  heart  on  your  being  there." 

"  I  think,  really,  considering  all  things,  I  would  rather 
not,"  said  Marvel  shyly.  The  separation  from  her  husband 
always  weighed  heavily  upon  her. 

"  Nonsense.  What  things  ?  It  is  an  occasion  not  to  be 
missed  and  I  shall  tease  you  into  coming.  Every  one 
worth  seeing  will  be  there ;  and  in  fact  they  are  making  a 
tremendous  fuss  about  it." 

"Make  up  your  mind  to  go  to  it,  Lady  Wriothesley," 
said  Sir  George  ;  "  if  you  don't  she  will  leave  you  without 
a  mind  to  make  up.  Besides,  really,  it  will  give  you 
pleasure  ;  and  as  we  are  all  going,  you  will  have  a  party  of 
friends  around  you.  I  knuw  you  fear  a  crowd,"  he  ended, 
with  a  kindly  laugh. 

"  Very  well,"  said  Marvel,  laughing  too.    "  If  I  am  to  be 


1 86  MAEVEL. 

taken  bodily  possession  of,  a  ball  more  or  less  makes  little 
difference." 

So  it  was  decided,  and  on  the  eighth  they  all  travelled 
southwards.  Marvel  had  insisted  on  Cicely's  being  her 
guest  in  the  home  in  Grosvenor  Square,  which  she  herself 
had  as  yet  never  seen;  there  they  would  stay  for  Lady 
Elaine's  ball,  which  was  to  be  on  the  seventeenth,  and  after 
that  go  down  to  Verulain  Court. 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

B  A  white  star  made  of  memory  long  ago 
Lit  in  the  heaven  of  dear  times  dead  to  me." 

*  *  *  *  * 

"Just  now  I  met  him  :  at  my  sight  he  started." 

THE  rooms  were  crowded  to  excess,  and  to  get  up  the 
broad  marble  staircases  was  now  become  quite  a  labour  of 
love.  The  tall  bronze  lamps  fastened  to  the  balusters  shed 
down  a  warm  rose-coloured  glow  upon  the  brilliant  forms 
that  made  a  perpetual  if  slow  motion  up  and  down  the 
stair,  and  the  perfume  of  hothouse  flowers  made  the  air 
heavy. 

It  was  long  past  midnight.  The  foreign  prince  and  the 
home  royalties  had  arrived  some  time  since,  and  the 
Marchioness  of  Elaine,  a  very  old  woman  of  about  eighty, 
with  the  carriage  and  air  of  a  queen,  had  given  up  receiving 
her  guests  and  was  devoting  herself  with  a  sort  of  regal 
graciousness  to  his  serene  mightiness  the  stranger  prince. 

There  was  a  murmur  everywhere  as  of  many  hives  let 
loose,  a  ripple  of  laughter  sometimes,  a  burst  of  harmony  as 
the  band  broke  into  a  musical  rapture.  Every  one  worth 
knowing  was  present,  a  few  who  were  on  the  road  to  be 
known,  and  for  the  matter  of  that,  a  good  many,  who,  if  they 
got  their  deserts,  shouldn't  be  known  at  all. 

Some  of  the  gowns  were  marvels  of  ingenious  beauty,  but 
it  was  unanimously  carried  that  Mrs.  Scarlett  was,  as  usual, 
the  best-dressed  woman  theru,  yet  oae  could  hardly  tell 


MAKVEL.  187 

what  it  was  she  wore.  As  she  walked  in  that  slow,  graceful, 
sinuous  fashion  that  distinguished  her,  she  seemed  to  emit 
little  sapphires  sparks,  and  there  was  a  priceless  band  of 
those  stones  around  her  neck  fit  for  a  king's  ransom.  All 
the  world  there  remarked  that  the  foreign  prince  was 
greatly  struck  with  her.  He  was  nothing  very  much  to 
look  at  as  he  stood,  but  then  he  was  of  blood  royal,  which 
covers  a  multitude  of  ugly  features.  Mrs.  Scarlett  roused 
herself  sufficiently  to  be  calmly  civil  to  him. 

"  How  lovely  she  looks  to-night,"  said  Marvel,  who  was 
gazing  at  her  in  a  fascinated  way.  "  Who  said  she  was  no 
longer  young  ?  " 

"Some  horrid  low  person,  of  course,"  said  Dameron  with 
a  little  eloquent  sniff. 

"  By  Jove  !  isn't  she  clever  ?  "  said  Mr.  Kitts,  who  was 
always  everywhere.  He  spoke  in  a  tone  of  rapturous 
admiration.  "  She  has  been  going  it  with  the  pigments 
and  no  mistake  !  Saw  her  a  week  ago  at  Chatterton's,  and 
you'd  have  given  her  about  a  week  to  live,  no  more.  What 
a  maid  is  hers !  Like  that  good  lady  we  read  of,  her  price 
must  be  above  rubies." 

"  The  prince  seems  taken  with  her." 

"If  he'd  take  her  with  him  it  would  be  a  relief  to  some 
people,"  said  Dameron,  who  hated  Mrs.  Scarlett  for  reasons 
unknown.  "  But  no  such  luck  I  suppose.  '  Put  not  your 
faith  in  princes  ! '  See  the  adoring  look  on  his  fat  face.  I 
wonder  how  she  manages  to  call  it  up  ?  " 

*  *  She  wreathed  her  head  with  roses, 
She  wreathed  her  face  in  smiles, 
Her  artificial  poses 
That  simple  man  beguiles.' " 

Impromptu !  quite  impromptu,  I  assure  you,  Lady  Wriothes- 
ley,"  said  Mr.  Kitts  with  a  modest  smile. 

"  We  can  readily  believe  it.  It  is  bad  enough  for  any- 
thing," said  Dameron. 

"  You're  jealous,"  said  Kitts.  "  Oh  !  why  isn't  Mrs. 
Geraint,  the  modern  Sappho,  here,  to  applaud  and  under- 
stand me?" 


188  MAEVEL. 

"  By-the-by,  what  of  her?"  asked  Lord  Rockcastle,  who 
was  dancing  attendance  on  Marvel  at  this  time. 

"  Not  much.  The  poems  still  hang  on  her  hands ;  it 
would  be  invidious  to  say  heavily,  but  certainly  they  hang. 
I  hear  she  has  not  even  yet  quite  made  up  her  mind  about 
her  publisher." 

"She  never  will,"  growled  Lord  Rockcastle.  "Never 
read  such  rot  in  my  life !  She's  about  the  stupidest  woman 
I  know." 

"Well,  I  don't  know,"  said  Lady  Lucy.  "When  she 
first  comes  in,  as  it  were,  I  grant  you  she  is  really  nothing, 
too  orthodox  by  half,  but  when  she  warms  up  a  bit,  and 
lets  herself  go,  she  is  worth  a  good  deal ;  on  the  subject  of 
her  own  genius,  for  example,  she  is  superb." 

Lady  Wriothesley  at  this  moment  made  a  sudden  move- 
ment, and  a  rose-flush  mounted  to  her  face. 

"  Nigel,  you  !  "  she  said.  She  held  out  her  hand  to  him. 
She  looked  unfeignedly  glad  to  see  him  again.  So  ingenuous 
was  the  warmth  of  her  reception,  that  Dameron  who  might 
have  had  his  doubts  before  had  none  now.  It  was  the 
simple  pleasure  of  a  child  she  showed  ;  all  her  feeling  was 
laid  bare,  one  might  be  sure  there  was  nothing  behind. 

Savage,  on  the  contrary,  seemed  constrained  and,  if  it 
could  be  said  of  so  thorough  a  man  of  the  world,  nervous. 
He  took  her  hand  and  held  it  fast,  whilst  a  dark  red  colour 
dyed  his  brow. 

"I  did  not  know.  I  had  not  heard,"  he  stammered 
foolishly,  and  then  all  at  once  he  recovered  himself  and 
drew  his  breath  sharply  and  flung  up  his  head  as  if  in 
derision  of  his  own  weakness.  "  I  believed  you  still  in  the 
north,"  he  said. 

"  I  could  almost  believe  myself  there,  the  determination 
to  leave  it  has  been  such  a  recent  one,"  she  said  laughing. 

"  You  ought  to  give  us  warning,  Lady  Wriothesley.  You 
should  not  take  us  by  storm  like  this.  It  is  ruin  to  our 
nerves,"  said  Kitts,  who  as  a  rule  always  said  the  wrong 
thing.  He  had  indeed  a  talent  for  it.  Marvel  smiled,  not 
comprehending,  but  Savage  scowled,  and  Dameron  came  to 
the  rescue. 
The  whole  of  this  little  scene,  the  start,  the  welcome,  had 


MARVEL.  189 

been  witnessed  by  a  man  who  had  come  in  through  the 
doorway  at  the  farthest  end  of  the  room.  A  tall  man,  with 
a  distinctly  military  air,  and  a  face  browned  by  other  suns 
than  ours.  He  appeared  to  know  no  one  and  not  to  regret 
that  fact,  as  he  stood  well  apart  from  every  fresh  incomei, 
and  at  last  edged  his  way  into  a  remote  corner  where  a 
magnificent  majolica  jar  filled  with  pampas  grasses  formed 
an  effectual  hiding-place.  There  he  stood  at  ease  and 
looked  around  him. 

It  was  from  this  coign  of  vantage  that  he  caught  his 
first  glimpse  of  Marvel ;  it  was  only  a  glimpse,  and  an 
imperfect  one,  as  she  was  so  standing  that  he  could  only  see 
her  by  flashes  as  the  people  round  her  moved  this  way  or 
that,  but  the  view  he  did  get,  held  him. 

The  lights  were  shining  directly  on  the  bronze  of  her  soft 
hair,  and  on  the  rich  white  folds  of  the  velvet  gown  she 
wore ;  a  gown  too  old  for  her  perhaps,  yet  it  seemed  to  suit 
the  gentle  dignity  that  belonged  to  her,  and  it  sat  exquisitely 
upon  her  svelte  girlish  figure.  Her  face,  as  usual,  was  colour- 
less save  for  the  red  lips  and  the  dark  gleam  of  the  lustrous 
eyes.  Diamonds  flashed  whenever  she  moved,  and  high  up 
in  her  hair  shone  the  famous  Wriothesley  star.  But  the 
man  watching  her  from  his  secret  corner  was  too  attracted 
by  the  indistinct  glimpses  he  caught  of  her  face  to  take  any 
notice  of  such  minor  details  as  diamonds. 

Once  again  she  turned  in  his  direction,  and  again  he  saw 
her,  for  a  moment  only.  Those  marvellous  eyes,  they 
seemed  to  sink  into  his  soul.  So  true !  so  deep !  so 
tender !  Where  before  had  he  seen  eyes  like  them,  yet 
unlike?  He  had  a  vague  idea  that  those  dimly-remem- 
bered eyes  had  belonged  to  a  child,  whereas  these  were 
full  of  the  sweet  earnest  beauty  of  pure  womanhood. 

What  a  lovely  face!  One  that  might  well  haunt  the 
beholder.  It  was  haunting  him  just  now,  as  Marvel  had 
laid  her  hand  upon  Lord  Castlerock's  arm  and  had 
vanished  out  of  his  sight.  He  stirred  himself  then,  and 
came  from  behind  the  majolica  jar  with  a  vague  notion 
of  following  that  lovely  vision  in  white  velvet.  As  he 
moved  a  voice  spoke  in  his  ear,  a  hand  clutched  his  arm. 

«'  Why,  Wriothesley !  you,  old  man,  after  all  these  cen- 


loo  MAEVEL. 

turies  ?  When  did  you  come  home  ?  And  from  where  ? 
Bless  my  stars,  what  a  bomb  you  are,  exploding  under  one's 
feet  when  least  expected.  I  say,  I  must  go  on  with  old 
Lady  Tattersall  now,  but  I  must  have  a  talk  with  you  by- 
and-by."  He  was  swept  onward  by  the  crowd,  and 
Wriothesley,  with  a  sense  of  impatience,  felt  that  his 
chances  of  remaining  here  unnoticed  were  smaller  than 
ever.  He  had  come  for  a  purpose ;  had  come  unin- 
vited, though  sure  of  his  welcome,  as  old  Lady  Elaine  was 
his  godmother  and  adored  him  ;  but  the  purpose  was  not 
yet  fulfilled,  and  though  disinclined  to  re-enter  society  in 
such  a  melo-dramatic  fashion,  he  found  he  could  not  leave 
until  he  had  seen  her  whom  he  had  come  to  see. 

He  was  idly  threading  his  way  through  a  music-room 
densely  crowded,  when  once  again  his  progress  was 
arrested.  This  time  the  voice  was  low  and  soft,  so  mere 
a  whisper  that  he  could  Jnot  distinguish  the  tone,  and  the 
one  word  uttered  was : 

•'  Fulke  ! " 

He  could  hardly  bring  himself  to  turn.  He  knew  it 
could  not  be  Cicely  Verulam  or — or  his  wife  ;  they  were 
both  safe  away  up  in  the  north  in  that  old  castle  of  his,  and 
he  was  conscious  of  a  sense  of  thankfulness  that  it  was  so. 
But  who  was  this  ?  He  slowly  moved  round  so  as  to  meet 
the  speaker,  and  looked  into  the  warm  eyes  of  Leonie 
Scarlett. 

He  felt  the  colour  recede  from  his  lips  and  brow.  In 
one  moment  there  was  an  upheaval  of  the  studied  calm 
of  eighteen  months  ;  and  all  things — things  he  had  honestly 
sought  to  forget — rushed  back  upon  him  in  an  overwhelm- 
ing flood.  He  stood  staring  at  her  as  if  fascinated.  He  felt 
chilled  to  his  heart's  core — crushed  by  the  memory  of  all 
that  past  misery — the  passion,  the  terrible  awaking,  the 
despair  ! 

Mrs.  Scarlett,  watching  him,  noticed  the  emotion  he 
could  not  suppress  and  a  thrill  of  triumph  sent  a  sudden 
flush  to  her  beautiful  face.  He  was  hers  still,  then  !  Her 
own  !  That  baby,  that  pale  little  fool,  was  nothing  to  him; 
she  was  all.  Oh,  the  sweetness  of  it !  She  would  reign  still 
in  a  heart  for  which  that  other  would  give  all  her  conquests 


MARVEL.  191 

willingly;  her  revenge  she  felt  was  ready  to  her.  Her 
power  had  been  greater  that  even  she  deemed  it.  That 
long  year  and  a  half  of  absence  had  failed  to  vanquish  it. 

"  Home  !"  she  said  in  a  low  seductive  voice.  "  In  town, 
and  never  to  tell  me  ?  How  cruel !  Had  you  then  quite 
forgotten  ?  " 

"  I  only  arrived  yesterday,"  replied  he  in  a  dull  sort  of 

way.     "  There  was  little  time I  came  here  to-night — 

to "     He  was  speaking  disconnectedly,  and  now  he 

stopped. 

"  To  see  me  ?  "  asked  she  softly. 

"  Yes;  to  see  you." 

The  old  evanescent  smile  (how  well  he  remembered  it — 
and  yet,  was  it  quite  like  that  ?)  flitted  across  her  face. 

"  There  is  no  chance  of  getting  a  quiet  moment  here," 

said  she  hurriedly.    "  But  if Your  dance,  Sir  Wilmot  ? 

But  if — to-morrow.  You  know  the  old  address  ?  If  you 
can  come  to-morrow  ?  " 

"  To-morrow  ?  Yes,"  replied  he  quickly.  He  was  longing 
to  be  gone,  to  find  himself  alone,  that  he  might  think,  and 
in  a  measure  recover  himself. 

He  made  his  way  through  the  throng  to  an  open  doorway 
that  commanded  a  view  of  the  ball-room.  He  wanted  to 
see  her  again,  when  she  was  not  there  to  compel  him  to 
listen  and  answer,  to  see  the  woman  to  whom  he  had  given 
room  in  his  heart  all  this  long  weary  time. 

She  had  stopped  dancing  and  was  standing  in  the  recess 
with  her  partner,  who  seemed  decidedly  epris,  and  was  slowly 
waving  her  fan  from  side  to  side.  Her  eyes  gleamed  large 
and  brilliant,  her  red  lips  were  parted  as  if  with  the  pleasure- 
able  fatigue  of  dancing,  and  as  Wriothesley  looked  she 
laughed  lightly,  seemingly  at  some  remark  of  her  com- 
panion's. There  was  a  feverish  gaiety  about  her  that  en 
hanced  her  charms  and  was  born  of  that  late  triumph  she 
believed  she  had  achieved  over  the  man  who  had  loved 
her  and  whom  she  had  betrayed.  She  felt  young  again, 
buoyant,  equal  to  the  defiance  of  a  world  of  foolish  women 
who,  in  spite  of  all  thai  kindly  nature  had  dealt  out  to  them, 
were  so  poverty-stricken  that  they  could  not  hold  the  very 
men  to  whom  they  were  bound  1 


192  MARVEL. 

There  was  a  languid  lustre  in  her  eyes,  a  warmth  in  her 
whole  air,  that  contrasted  favourably  with  her  usual  icy  cold- 
ness. One  felt  that  there  was  a  certain  danger  in  the 
beauty  of  her  on  that  night. 

She  was  so  supremely  lovely  !  Far  lovelier  than  when  in 
those  bygone  days  she  had  lured  him  to  her  feet.  He 
thought  again  of  that  past  wild  agony — how  he  had  knelt, 
and  prayed  and  entreated — to  a  stone  !  Yes,  she  had  grown 
more  beautiful  since,  and  yet What  was  it  ? 

A  curious  change  passed  over  him  as  he  looked  at  her. 
It  was  indeed  a  moment  in  his  life  not  to  be  lightly  regarded. 
All  on  a  sudden  the  old  order  changed,  the  past  cast  its 
skin,  as  it  were,  and  in  an  instant  the  old  glamour  had 
slipped  from  him  and  he  stood  there  emancipated — free — 
the  poorer  yet  the  richer  for  his  loss  !  It  struck  him  as 
being  almost  terrible,  this  quick  sense  of  freedom.  The 
love  he  had  been  hugging  to  his  breast,  cherishing  it  against 
his  sternest  resolves  to  keep  it  warm,  was,  now  that  he 
threw  back  the  coverings  that  hid  it,  found  to  be  stone 
dead  within  his  arms  ! 

He  pondered  over  this  thing  that  had  come  to  him  ;  and 
it  was  at  last  with  a  sense  of  shame  that  he  acknowledged 
to  himself  the  truth — he  was  of  that  kind  that  must  be 
termed  fickle !  He  was  unstable  in  all  things,  yet  in  spite 
of  his  self-abasement  he  could  not  control  the  happiness 
that  surged  within  him.  He  had  been  so  long  in  thrall  to 
a  fruitless  passion,  that  now  to  be  free  set  his  pulses  throb- 
bing in  a  quick  delight. 

He  leant  against  a  friendly  wall,  and  a  heavy  sigh  escaped 
him.  A  sigh  of  rapture.  Next  him  were  two  men,  also 
propped  against  this  friendly  wall  that  seemed  made  for  the 
reception  of  waifs  and  strays,  and  presently  Wriothesley 
became  aware  that  they  were  talking.  One  or  two  words 
they  used  caught  his  ear. 


MAKVEI* 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 

"  Last  year,  a  brief  while  since,  an  age  ago, 
A  whole  year  past,  with  bud  and  bloom  and  snow, 
O  moon  that  wast  in  heaven,  what  friends  were  we.* 

"  MRS.  SCARLETT  is  cut  out  at  last,"  said  one  of  them,  a  tall 
military-looking  man  with  a  fat  gossipy  face.  Nobody  like 
an  elderly  officer  of  the  mild  type  for  "  Did  you  hear  ?  "  and 
"  They  say,"  and  "  Is  it  true  that  ?  "  &c. 

"Yes,"  said  his  companion  sharply,  a  considerably 
younger  man,  "  the  new  beauty  has  eclipsed  her  quite.  Well, 
she  couldn't  hold  on  for  ever,  you  know.  Very  much  the 
wrong  side  of  thirty — close  on  forty,  I'm  told ;  but  one 
takes  that  cum  grano  salis  !  By  Jove  !  if  it's  true,  she  ought 
to  sell  the  secret.  It  would  fetch  a  good  deal  now-a-days." 

"  Did  you  hear  that  ?  "  said  the  other.  "  Well,  forty  has 
it ;  she's  that,  they  say,  and  they  always  know  somehow. 
But  forty  or  not,  she's  the  handsomest  woman  I  know,  by 
many." 

"I  suppose  she  won't  take  kindly  to  the  usurper?  It's 
rough  on  her  after  such  a  long  and  undisputed  reign.  I 
often  think  how  cruel  a  moment  it  must  be  for  a  woman 
who  has  held  the  sceptre  so  triumphantly  when  she  finds 
she  must  relinquish  it,  not  so  much  to  superior  beauty — that 
would  be  bad  enough — but  to  youth.  There  lies  the  sting  ! " 

"  The  oddest  part  of  this  affair  is  that  the  two  women  are 
so  alike.  Did  you  hear  that  there  was  a  relationship  there  ?  " 
with  a  knowing  glance. 

"  No ;  nor  did  you  either,"  said  the  other  with  a  good- 
natured  laugh.  "  Don't  let  us  run  riot  in  romance.  As  to 
the  resemblance  you  speak  of,  it  is  there,  I  allow,  but 
transient,  hardly  worthy  of  comment.  I  myself  have 
scarcely  ever  noticed  it." 

"  My  dear  fellow,  why  the  colouring,  or  rather  the  very 
novel  want  of  colouring,  the  eyes,  the  very  shape  of  the 
face,  all  correspond." 

"  So  would  the  features  of  half-a-dozen  other  women  I 
know,  flut  the  expression,  where  is  that  ?  So  totally  different 

13 


194  MAKVEL. 

that  they  might  be  two  beings  out  of  different  spheres. 

One  is  like  an  angel — the  other "  he  shrugged  his 

shoulders. 

"  Severe — too  severe  by  half." 

"  So  far  from  it,  that  I  will  confess  to  you  that  of  the  two 
types  I  prefer  the  latter — that  is,  Mrs.  Scarlett's." 

"  She  still  has  her  worshippers,  then,"  said  the  elder  man 
laughing ;  "  you  and  me.  Pray  the  gods  we  prove  not 
rivals ! " 

"  She  has  more  life,  more  grace.  One,  as  I  have  said, 
is  an  angel,  but  angels  pall  on  one  after  awhile.  I  prefer 
the  diablerie  that  distinguishes  Mrs.  Scarlett." 

"  You  will  find  yourself  alone  in  that  preference,"  said  a 
third  man  drily,  who  had  just  joined  them. 

Wriothesley  had  listened  deliberately,  hoping  to  hear 
the  name  of  the  fresh  beauty  who  had  evidently  (as  he 
gathered  by  their  conversation)  taken  the  world  of  London 
by  storm  and  threatened  to  destroy  Mrs.  Scarlett's  prestige. 
He  knew  it  was  the  girl  in  white  velvet  upon  whom  his  eyes 
had  fastened  when  first  he  entered  the  rooms,  and  he  felt 
a  certain  anxiety  to  know  her  name.  He  did  not  account 
to  himself  for  this  anxiety,  which  was  a  vague  one,  and  had 
nothing  to  do  with  the  admiration  with  which  she  had  in- 
spired him.  He  was  conscious  only  of  the  fact  that  he 
feared  as  much  as  he  longed  to  learn  her  name. 

He  was  not  to  hear  it  then,  however.  The  trio  moved 
away,  talking  now  of  something  entirely  foreign  to  either 
beau  y  or  rivalry,  and  Wriothesley,  with  a  sense  of  disap- 
pointment fully  on  him,  disappeared  through  a  door  on  his 
left  and  made  his  way  to  a  tiny  boudoir  well  known  to  him, 
that  being  rather  apart  from  the  rest  of  the  rooms  lefi  him 
a  faint  hope  that  it  might  be  untenanted. 

It  was  a  charming  little  apartment,  hung  with  amber 
satin  and  half-smothered  in  hot-house  flowers.  For  the 
moment  he  found  his  desire  gratified ;  it  was,  indeed, 
deserted,  and  with  a  sigh  of  relief  he  flung  himself  upon  a 
couch  and  let  his  brow  fall  forward  into  his  palm. 

He  was  thinking  deeply — compelling  himself  to  go  back 
on  those  old  scenes  in  which  Leonie  had  played  so  strong 
a  part  and  when  he  had  .believed  no  time  could  impair 


MAKVEL.  195 

the  passion  he  then  felt  for  rrr.  He  was  still  dreaming 
thus,  when  the  sound  of  approaching  voices  roused  him. 
He  changed  his  position,  withdrawing  into  the  shadow 
of  a  window  as  the  thick  satin  curtain  that  guarded  the 
entrance  was  pushed  aside  to  permit  the  entrance  cf  two 
people. 

"If  she  said  t/iaf,  I  certainly  should  not  lose  heart. 
Cicely  is  difficult,  I  grant  you,  but  some  time  there  always 
comes  a  lucky  moment !  Wait  for  yours.  Yes,  leave  me 
now.  It  is  your  dance  with  her,  I  know,  and  I  shall  be 
quite  glad  to  have  a  quiet  five  minutes  here  all  to  myself. 
A  little  unsocial,  isn't  it  ?  But  such  a  crush,  such  a  crowd, 
it  is  intolerable.  Oh,  Sir  George,  if  you  should  see  my 
partner — it  is  Lord  Castlerock — do  not,  I  command  you," 
laughing,  "  divulge  my  hiding-place." 

"  Madam,  your  word  is  law,"  said  Sir  George  bowing 
low. 

He  went  away,  and  Marvel,  with  a  little  comfortable  sigh, 
leant  back  amongst  her  cushions. 

At  the  sound  of  her  voice  Wriothesley  had  started  and 
now  lifted  his  head  to  find  himself  looking  at  the  girl  who 
had  so  attracted  him  on  his  first  entrance.  Who  was  she  ? 
What  was  there  about  her  to  make  his  heart  beat  so  con- 
vulsively ?  He  felt  as  though  he  were  on  the  verge  of  some 
mystery,  and  dreaded  the  discovery  of  it.  What  an  exqui- 
site face  she  had !  She  held  herself  like  a  young  queen  ; 
there  was  indeed  a  lovely  distinction  about  her  to  which 
few  could  lay  claim. 

He  pushed  aside  the  curtain  of  the  window,  and  the 
rings  that  held  it  ran  together  with  a  slight  but  sharp  noise. 
It  induced  her  to  turn  her  head,  and — their  eyes  met ! 

Marvel  rose  to  her  feet  without  removing  her  gaze  from 
his,  and  presently  her  face  grew  ghastly.  It  occurred  to 
Wriothesley  that,  believing  h?rs(  If  :o  be  alone,  the  sudden 
knowledge  of  his  presence  (standing  too,  as  he  did,  half 
enshrouded  by  the  curtains)  had  unnerved  her.  It  was  an 
absurd  idea,  but  nothing  better  suggested  itself  at  a  moment 
\vhen  his  brain  seemed  on  fire  with  conflicting  emotions. 

What  wild  fancy  was  this,  that  new  had  arisen  and  was 
crying  aloud  to  him  for  credence  ? 

13—2 


196  MARVEL. 

Marvel  still  stood  staring  at  him,  like  a  frozen  thing,  but 
all  at  once  she  swayed  a  little,  and  but  that  he  sprang  to 
her  assistance,  she  would  have  fallen.  Impulsively  he  sup- 
ported her  with  an  arm  that  trembled  very  palpably. 

"  I  am  afraid  I  startled  you.  You  are  faint.  Will  you 
permit  me  to  get  you  a  glass  of  wine — some  water?  "  He 
spoke  hurriedly,  anxiously  indeed,  but  in  the  tone  one 
would  use  to  an  utter  stranger.  He  had  not  had  time  to 
belive  that  it  could  indeed  be  she.  A  feeling  as  of  death 
came  over  Marvel.  He  was  there,  speaking  to  her,  looking 
at  her,  and — he  did  not  know  her  I  Oh,  the  bitterness  of 
it! 

She  tried  to  speak,  but  she  could  not.  She  was  shivering 
as  if  with  cold,  and  an  awful  fear  that  she  was  going  to  cry 
carne  over  her.  She  felt,  too,  as  if  she  could  not  bear  his 
touch,  and  placing  her  hand  upon  his  breast,  pushed  him 
nervously  from  her.  Of  course  he  obeyed  the  gesture  and 
stepped  back. 

"  You  are  better  ?  "  he  said,  trying  to  speak  naturally,  but 
not  succeeding. 

"Is  it  so  long  a  time?  Have  you  quite  forgotten?" 
said  she  mournfully.  She  raised  her  hand  to  her  throat 
as  though  suffocating 

"  Marvel !  "  cried  he  with  a  burst  of  passionate  astonish- 
ment, and  he  would  have  gone  to  her,  but  she  waved  him 
back.  It  was  her  last  effort,  however.  The  agitation,  the 
surprise,  the  sound  of  his  voice  as  it  spoke  her  name — all 
were  too  much  for  her.  Once  again  but  for  his  arm  she 
would  have  fallen;  and  this  time  she  was  indeed  insen- 
sible. 

As  he  stood  there  holding  her,  and  gazing  with  mixed 
feelings  into  her  face,  four  people  came  into  the  room.  The 
first  was  Mrs.  Scarlett,  and  she  stopped  short  on  the  thres- 
hold, as  though  struck  motionless  by  the  scene  before  her. 
Wriothesley,  pale — impassioned — with  his  wife  in  his  arms  ! 
The  sight  was  unutterably  hateful  to  her.  There  had  been 
a  scene — would  a  reconciliation  follow  on  it?  No.  She 
would  take  care  to  prevent  that. 

So  much  thought  took  up  but  a  moment  of  time,  so  swift 
runs  the  brain,  and  she  was  roused  into  a  sense  of  the 


MARVEL.  197 

present  by  the  fact  of  Savage's  rushing  quickly  by  her. 
He  hurried  to  where  Marvel  lay,  still  unconscious  in  this 
stranger's  arms,  and  made  a  movement  as  if  to  take  her 
from  him ;  but  Wriothesley  motioned  him  back  with  one 
hand. 

"  This  is  presumptuous,  sir,"  said  Savage,  in  a  low  tone. 
His  face  was  as  white  as  Marvel's  own ;  his  manner  ex- 
tremely agitated.  Great  Heaven !  was  she  alive,  or  did  that 
awful  pallor  mean  death  itself!  "You  had  better  surrender 
this  lady  to  her  friends.  You  have  yet  to  account  to  me 
for  the  state  in  which  I  find  her." 

He  hardly  knew  what  he  was  saying,  but  Wriothesley 
remembered  every  word !  It  was  the  most  absurd  attack 
in  the  world,  born  evidently  of  a  moment  fraught  with  fear 
and  anxiety,  but  it  was  impossible  not  to  recognize  the  tone 
of  possession — the  agony  of  love  alarmed,  that  lay  under- 
neath it  and  betrayed  itself  in  every  glance  directed  at  the 
senseless  form. 

"Account  to  you!"  said  Wriothesley. 

"  To  me — yes.  Who  are  you,  who  dare  to  stand  there, 
holding  her  against  the  wishes  of  her  friends?" 

"  Her  husband  !"  said  Wriothesley  calmly.     "And you?" 

Savage  drew  back  as  if  stunned.  He  knew  it  then.  Like 
a  flash  it  all  came  back  to  him.  That  was  the  man  who  had 
stood  at  the  door  of  the  railway  carriage — the  man  who 
Marvel  had  told  him  was  Lord  Wriothesley.  He  had  made 
a  fool  of  himself,  but  he  hardly  thought  of  that  in  the  bitter- 
ness of  the  moment  that  found  him  face  to  face  with  her 
husband.  There  had  always  been  that  vague  latent  hope 
that  he  would  never  return  ;  and  now  he  was  facing  him, 
holding  from  him  the  one  woman  whom  alone  he  desired. 
Thus  would  he  hold  her  from  him  for  ever ! 

Marvel  stirred,  moved  a  little  in  Wriothesley's  arms,  and 
sighed  faintly.  Mrs.  Verulam  (who,  with  Sir  George,  had 
also  come  in)  was  bending  over  her,  gently  but  vigorously 
chafing  her  hand.  She  was,  therefore,  the  first  thing  that 
Marvel  saw  as  she  opened  her  eyes,  and  a  gleam  of  pas- 
sionate relief  came  into  her  face.  She  caught  her  hand ; 
she  seemed,  indeed,  to  cling  to  her,  throwing  off  Wriothes- 
ley's support  with  an  ill-concealed  shudder. 


198  MARVEL. 

"  He  did  not  know  me !"  she  said  to  Mrs.  Verulam,  in  a 
heart-broken  whisper,  that  yet  was  loud  enough  to  be  heard 
by  all.  This  was  the  last  straw  ! — the  one  thing  too  much 
for  the  already  too  cruelly-burdened  heart ! 

Mrs.  Scarlett  broke  into  a  low,  silvery  laugh  : 

"  It  is  charming  !  It  is  a  little  comedy,"  she  said,  turn- 
ing to  Savage,  who  was  standing  with  moody  eyes  fixed  on 
Marvel.  "  Now,  why  is  not  Mr.  Dameron  here  ?  He  who 
writes  plays  ;  it  would  be  quite  a  little  suggestion  for  him. 
'  The  husband  who  did  not  know  his  own  wife  ! '  What  a 
captivating  title  ?  Very  French — and  very  effective  !" 

"  And  anything  but  new,"  said  Savage  icily.  "  It  has 
been  done  about  a  hundred  times,  I  should  say.  It  has  not 
even  the  element  of  freshness ;  and,  for  my  part,  I  see 
nothing  extraordinary  about  it.  People — young  as  Lady 
Wriothesley — grow  out  of  recognition  in  a  few  months,  to 
say  nothing  of  a  period  bordering  on  two  years.  Mrs. 
Verulam,  who  knew  her  before  her  marriage,  tells  me  too 
that  she  has  grown  very  much  more  beautiful  since  then 
— since  her  husband  last  saw  her  in  fact." 

This  was  a  telling  thrust,  and  Mrs.  Scarlett  cast  at  him  a 
glance  full  of  the  deadliest  hatred. 

"You  are  a  prejudiced  person;  you  will  not  see  the 
humour  of  it,"  she  said  sweetly.  "  I  shall,  however,  keep 
in  mind  this  little  scene  for  Mr.  Dameron ;  he,  no  doubt, 
will  be  able  to  make  use  of  it." 

"  I  wouldn't  if  I  were  you,"  said  Savage,  with  meaning. 
"  If  you  begin  to  spread  stories  about  her,  they  will  say  you 
are  jealous  That  is  always  a  poor  thing,  and  means — 
defeat.  Besides,  I  shall  take  very  good  care  that  Dameron 
does  not  make  use  of  your  little  tale,  however  daintily  spiced 
it  may  be." 

"  It  strikes  me  you  go  a  little  far,"  said  she,  patting  the 
palm  of  one  hand  with  her  fan  in  a  curiously  suppressed 
fashion  that  meant  mischief.  "You  are  very  careful  of 
Lady  Wriothesley ;  so  careful  that  her  husband  will  not 
have  to  trouble  himself  at  all ;  or— must  we  read  it  the 
other  way  ?  Dear  Nigel !  you  are  amusing  always,  but 
never  so  much  so  as  when  you  are  in  love  !  You  will  allow 
that  I  should  be  a  judge?" 


MARVEL.  199 

She  laughed  again  airily,  as  at  some  exquisitely  amusing 
memory.  He  had  been  in  love  with  her  once  it  was  true, 
and  he  grew  hot  and  embarrassed  beneath  her  deliberate 
gaze.  He  thought  her  a  fiend  now,  but  there  was  a  time 
when  he  had  deemed  her  an  angel.  Had  she  found  in 
him  a  butt  for  her  laughter  even  then?  She  enjoyed  her 
revenge  for  awhile,  and  then  : 

"  I  am  not  so  nice  as  I  was  then,  am  I  ? "  she  said 
mockingly.  "People  are  as  we  behold  them.  Yonder 
is  your  beau  ideal  now.  See  that  she  brings  you  as  little 
harm  as  I  did.  What  makes  you  so  trenchant  to-night? 
Has  Monsieur's  unexpected  return  put  out  your  calcula- 
tions ? "  She  looked  at  him  keenly,  and  leaned  a  little 
towards  him.  "They  need  not,"  she  said  in  a  soft, 
seductive  whisper. 

But  if  she  thought  to  gain  over  Savage  as  a  partner 
in  the  plans  she  was  already  forming,  she  was  for  once 
out  in  her  calculations. 

"A  compact  with  you?  Pas  si  b£te!"  he  said  with  a 
sneer.  "  Look  to  others  to  join  you  in  your  unrighteous 
work.  As  for  me,  I  thank  you  for  the  hint  you  have  given 
me.  An  insight  into  your  plan  of  warfare  will  enable  me  to 
put  Lady  Wriothesley  upon  her  guard." 

"As  you  will,"  she  said  with  a  shrug.  "There  have 
been  very  many  fools  who  have  thought  themselves  as 
clever  as  me." 

"  This  fool  will  do  his  best  at  all  events,"  said  Savage 
with  a  bow  and  a  slight  smile. 

Here  Mrs.  Scarlett's  partner  for  the  dance  then  begun, 
arrived  upon  the  scene,  and  she  went  away  with  him. 
Marvel  had  expressed  a  wish  to  go  home  at  once,  and 
Mrs.  Verulam  was  anxious  to  get  her  away  as  soon  as 
possible.  She  was  quite  herself  again,  but  looked  worn 
and  pallid  to  an  alarming  degree.  She  turned  away  from 
Wriothesley,  however,  when  he  would  have  offered  her  his 
arm  to  escort  her  to  her  carriage,  and  looked  directly  at 
Savage,  who  stood  at  a  distance. 

"  Nigel,  you  will  take  me  down  ?  "  she  said  distinctly, 
before  Mrs.  Verulam — who  would  have  prevented  her  if 
she  could — had  divined  her  intention ;  and  Nigel  of  course 


200  MAKVEL. 

came  forward,  and  she  laid  her  hand  on  his  arm  and  left  tl ..c 
room.  Wriothesley  would  have  followed,  but  Mrs.  Verulam 
called  to  him  in  a  voice  that  was  very  low,  but,  that  Sir 
George  had  learned,  meant  much.  He  was,  indeed,  so  sure 
of  its  meaning  that  he  discreetly  went  towards  the  curtained 
entrance,  and  even  slipped  on  to  the  corridor  outside. 

"  A  word,  Fulke,"  said  Mrs.  Verulam ;  "  you  will  come 
home  with  us  to-night." 

"  Oh,  thank  you,"  said  Wriothesley  rather  uncertainly, 
being  divided  between  surprise  at  the  anger  in  her  eyes  and 
gratitude  for  the  hospitality  she  was  evidently  so  eager  to 
bestow.  "  You  are  very  good  indeed,  but " 

"  There  is  no  goodness  about  it,  and  no  need  of  thanks. 
The  house  to  which  I  wish  you  to  come  is  yours,  not  mine. 
I  am  staying  with  your  wife  for  the  few  days  we  remain  in 
town." 

"  Indeed.  It  makes  it  then  the  easier  to  refuse,"  said 
Wriothesley. 

"  I  shall  take  no  refusal.  You  must  accompany  me  and 
Marvel  home  to-night." 

"  Impossible !  I  have  my  rooms  engaged  at  Claridge's  j 
and  besides " 

"  I  don't  care  whether  you  have  rooms  engaged  in 
every  capital  in  Europe !  I  insist  upon  your  putting  up 
at  your  own  house,  where  your  wife  is  and  where  I  am. 
What !  do  you  think  that  poor  child  has  not  suffered 
enough  at  your  hands  that  you  would  give  the  world  more 
food  for  scandal  ?  You  have  made  her  town-talk  so  far,  by 
your  most  reprehensible  neglect  and  persistent  absence, 
and  now  you  will  have  all  your  horrid  clubs  teeming  with 
the  fact  that  she  lives  in  her  town-house  whilst  you  live  en 
garfon  in  your  hotel.  If  you  are  a  man,  Wriothesley,  you 
will  at  least  prevent  that." 

"  You  speak  very  harshly,"  said  he,  with  a  certain  cold- 
ness; "but  if  you  put  matters  in  that  light,  I  cannot  of 
course  any  longer  refuse  to  accede  to  your  request.  I  shall 
be  my  wife's  guest  with  pleasure."  . 

There  was  little  pleasure,  however,  in  his  voice. 

"  I  am  glad  you  have  seen  the  reason  in  what  I  have 
said,"  replied  she  with  equal  coldness ;  and  still  with  her 


MARVEL.  .          201 

eyes  alight  with  indignant  anger,  she  joined  Sir  George 
outside  the  door.  •- 

"  I  say,"  said  he,  after  a  swift  but  true  reading  of  her 
countenance,  "  don't  go  amongst  the  others  looking  like 
that  You're  in  a  regular  rage  still,  you  know.  They'll 
notice  it." 

"  Oh,  don't  bother  me,"  said  Mrs.  Verulam,  with  more 
force  than  elegance  it  must  be  admitted. 

She  went  on  a  step  or  two,  and  then  paused  and  burst 
out  laughing: 

"  In  a  rage,  am  I  ?  I  have  always  given  you  the  credit 
of  being  the  most  courageous  man  of  my  acquaintance, 
however  far  short  you  may  fall  in  other  matters.  In  a 
rage  !  Well,  I  shouldn't  be,  as  I've  carried  my  point." 

"  I  wish  I  could  carry  mine,"  said  Sir  George,  "  and  I 
should  be  the  happiest  man  alive." 


CHAPTER  XXXIIL 

"  Live  and  let  live,  as  I  will  do, 

Love  and  let  love,  and  so  will  I- 
But,  sweet,  for  me  no  more  with  you  s 
Not  while  I  live,  not  though  I  die. 
Good-night !  good-bye  1 " 

NEXT  morning  Wriothesley  and  his  wife  met  at  breakfast 
Marvel  looked  a  little  pale  and  tired ;  but  this  only  made 
the  soft  brilliancy  of  her  eyes  more  apparent  She  greeted 
him  with  friendliness,  though  she  hardly  looked  at  him, 
and  at  first  seemed  disinclined  for  conversation.  She  sat 
behind  the  massive  urn  and  poured  out  tea  as  though  her 
whole  soul  were  concentrated  on  the  proper  proportions  of 
the  sugar  and  the  cream,  which  made  it  a  trifle  hard  for 
Mrs.  Verulam,  upon  whom  was  flung  the  onus  of  the  con- 
versation. 

After  a  while  she  appealed  directly  to  Marvel,  and  on  the 
instant  the  girl's  manner  changed.  She  flung  from  her, 
with  quite  an  extraordinary  ease,  the  silence  in  which  she 
had  enveloped  herself,  and  began  to  speak  of  the  last 


202 

night's  ball  with  a  fluency — a  brilliancy,  indeed — that  as- 
tonished even  Mrs.  Verulam.  It  was  to  her  only  she  ad- 
dressed herself. 

Wriothesley  sat  dumb,  listening  and  feeling  as  though 
he  should  awake  suddenly  and  find  it  all  a  mere  crank  of 
his  brain.  Was  this  lovely,  animated,  self-possessed  girl 
the  pretty,  shy  child  of  some  eighteen  months  ago?  No 
wonder  he  had  not  known  her ! 

Marvel  was  rattling  on,  with  a  soft  laugh  here,  and  a 
little  air  of  triumph  there.  She  made  no  secret  of  what 
H.R.H.  had  said  to  her,  which  was  complimentary  to  a 
very  high  degree,  if  uttered  with  a  clumsiness  that  seems 
to  belong  to  royalty.  In  the  middle  of  her  lively  recital 
she  half  rose  from  her  chair  : 

"  My  programme,"  she  said  ;  "  you  will  like  to  see  "that. 
It  is  the  most  interesting  of  unintelligible  things  ;  but  the 
autographs  on  it  are  positively  priceless.  I  must  bring  it 
to  you." 

She  ran  quickly  to  the  door  and  up  the  stairs  to  her 
room,  but  not  for  the  card.  On  the  contrary,  when  there 
she  seemed  to  have  forgotten  all  about  it,  and  remem- 
bered only  to  fall  on  her  knees  by  her  bed  and  burst  into  a 
passion  of  weeping.  It  was  all  too  cruel !  How  was  she 
to  live  this  life  day  after  day  ?  Oh  that  it  might  end — that 
she  could  die  !  Alas  for  that  fatal  marriage  !  Her  short 
sojourn  in  the  world  had  taught  her,  amongst  other  things, 
the  folly  of  hoping  that  it  could  be  set  aside.  She  won- 
dered whether  Cicely  would  expect  her  to  go  back;  but 
breakfast  was  over  when  she  left  the  room,  and  Cicely  was 
always  so  good,  she  would  understand.  She  had  left  them 
only  bar-ely  in  time  ;  another  moment  and  the  tears  that 
were  choking  her  would  have  fallen,  to  her  eternal  dis- 
grace. 

She  did  not  appear  again  until  late  in  the  afternoon, 
pleading  fatigue  as  her  excuse.  But  when  she  did  creep 
down  to  the  smaller  drawing-room,  hoping  to  find  it  un- 
tenanted,  she  found  Wriothesley  as  well  as  Cicely  there. 
They  had  evidently  been  in  full  discussion  of  a  rather  un- 
amicable  nature,  but  they  ceased  speaking  as  she  entered. 
Wriothesley  drew  a  lounging  chair  to  the  fire  for  her,  and 


MARVEL.  203 

looked  at  her  with  an  increased  regard  that  might  have 
been  born  of  that  stormy  discourse  just  interrupted. 

"  I  hope  you  feel  your  fatigue  less  now,"  he  said  solici- 
tously. 

"  Very  much  less,  thank  you." 

If  he  had  been  the  veriest  stranger  on  earth  her  tone 
could  not  have  been  colder. 

"A  little  foolish  to  come  downstairs  at  all,  was  it  not? 
Talking  is  so  bad  for  a  headache." 

"  I  need  not  talk." 

"  No,  that  is  true.  But  it  is  so  difficult  to  keep  silence 
when  people  are  present.  I  shall  relieve  you  of  my  pre- 
sence, however,  as  I  am  going.  You " 

"  Are  you  ?  Where  ?  "  asked  Mrs.  Verulam,  in  defiance 
of  all  respectable  rules. 

"  To  call  on  Mrs.  Scarlett.  I  promised  her  last  night  to 
pay  her  a  visit  to-day." 

"Do  you  think  it  demands  an  apology  ?"  said  Mrs.  Veru- 
lam, with  a  little  peculiar  laugh ;  and  then  he  went  away. 

Marvel  sat  quite  still.  She  said  nothing,  and  neither 
did  Mrs.  Verulam,  who  was,  indeed,  compulsorily  silent,  as 
she  was  doing  battle  with  her  feelings.  She  was  longing 
to  break  forth  into  a  torrent  of  abuse  against  Wriothesley, 
Mrs.  Scarlett,  and  the  general  ordering  of  things  in  this 
life  ;  but  she  could  not  do  this  without  giving  Marvel  pain, 
and  that  she  shrank  from.  At  length  the  latter  grew  rest- 
less, as  though  the  silence  was  becoming  unbearable,  and, 
getting  up,  began  to  move  nervously  about  the  room, 
changing  a  flower  in  a  vase  here,  and  altering  the  position 
of  a  quaint  little  Wedgwood  bowl  on  a  cabinet  there. 

At  the  end  she  went  up  to  Cicely,  and  said  mournfully  : 

"  He  has  gone  to  see  her." 

"So  it  appears,"  said  Mrs.  Verulam,  affecting  an  air  of 
indifference  she  was  far  from  feeling. 

"  I  shall  not  be  able  to  bear  it,"  said  Marvel,  whose  lips 
had  grown  white. 

"Don't  lay  too  much  stress  on  this  visit.  See  here, 
Marvel,  I  will  tell  you  one  thing.  The  very  fact  that  he 
openly  declared  his  intention  should  show  you  that  there  is 
little  in  it." 


204  MAEVEL. 

"A  very  little  would  be  too  much,"  said  Marvel 
coldly. 

Meantime  Wriothesley  had  stepped  into  a  hansom  and 
was  being  driven  to  Mrs.  Scarlett's  town  house.  All  the 
way  there  memories  were  thronging  thickly  upon  him,  and 
it  was  with  a  sigh  of  absolute  relief  that  he  got  out 
and  went  into  the  hall.  He  would  get  it  over  soon,  this 
visit,  which  he  felt  it  necessary  to  make,  if  only  to  explain 
to  himself  and  her  what  terms  they  should  be  on  for 
the  future.  The  old  love  was  dead.  He  felt  unspeakably 
thankful  for  that ;  it  now  remained  to  see  whether  friend- 
ship could  take  its  place. 

He  went  up  the  thickly-carpeted  staircase,  noting  as  he 
went  all  the  old  landmarks.  The  same  statue  of  Venus 
stood  in  the  same  corner ;  the  rose-shaded  lamps  that  used 
to  shed  such  a  tender  glow  on  the  passers-by,  stood  out 
from  the  walls  ;  there  was  the  hush,  the  quiet,  the  air  of 
expectancy,  the  warm,  scented  breath  of  flowers.  He 
thought  it  just  now  a  little  oppressive.  Then  the  door  of 
her  boudoir  was  flung  wide,  and  a  second  later  he  found 
himself  in  her  presence. 

It  was  a  room  charming  in  every  respect,  and  therefore 
well  suited  to  its  mistress.  Crimson  lace  curtains  shrouded 
the  windows,  so  that  the  cold  forbidding  aspect  of  the 
December  day  was  excluded  and  a  soft  twilight  reigned. 
A  delicious  fire  burned  upon  the  hearth,  and  a  large  Persian 
cat,  snow-white,  lay  in  a  luxuriant  slumber  upon  the  rug. 
The  walls  were  very  delicately  tinted  in  a  flesh  colour,  and 
over  a  buhl  cabinet  a  woman  of  Burne  Jones's  looked  out 
moodily  from  a  plain  gilt  frame.  On  the  opposite  wall  was 
an  exquisite  thing  of  Birkett  Foster's,  an  innocent  idyllic 
bit  of  perfection,  with  a  child  or  two  in  the  foreground, 
and  a  gleam  of  scarlet,  and  a  subdued  sunlight. 

There  was  a  perfume  of  scented  woods,  rare  and  strange 
fragrances,  mingled  with  the  sweetness  of  hot-house  flowers, 
and  big  bunches  of  heliotrope  and  daphne  that  lay  hidden  in 
priceless  bowls  behind  curtains  and  spindle-legged  tables, 
their  presence  suggested  rather  than  seen.  There  was  a 
five-fold  screen  of  Japanese  work  at  the  far  end  of  the  room, 
with  tall  pots  filled  with  palms  standing  in  each  fold,  and  a 


MAEVEL.  205 

few  prayer  rugs  from  India  lay  here  and  there  upon  the 
polished  portion  of  the  floor. 

Mrs.  Scarlett  rose  as  he  entered  and  advanced  a  little  to 
welcome  him.  She  was  dressed  in  a  gown  of  olive  green 
velvet  that  suited  her  d  merveille.  It  threw  out  the 
delicate  pallor  of  her  skin  and  cast  a  shade  into  her  hand- 
some eyes.  A  woman  would  have  seen  at  once  that  she  had 
taken  elaborate  care  with  her  toilette,  but  Wriothesley  being 
a  man  only  knew  that  she  was  looking  exceptionally  lovely. 
It  was  a  knowledge,  however,  that  had  no  power  to  move 
him. 

"  You  have  come — at  last ! "  said  she,  with  the  softest,  the 
most  flattering  touch  of  reproach.  "  I  have  waited  for  you 
until  I  believed  you  almost  false.  But —  "  with  a  little  swift, 
fond  smile — "  but  not  quite  /" 

"  I  am  sorry  if  I  have  kept  you  waiting,"  said  he,  more 
gravely  than  the  occasion  required.  He  was  feeling  the 
situation  keenly,  and  his  manner  in  spite  of  himself  was 
strained.  "I  intended  to  be  earlier,  but  I  could  not 
manage  it." 

"  Had  to  find  an  opportunity  ! "  thought  she  exultantly. 
The  little  touch  of  intrigue  delighted  her.  She  felt  quite 
elated,  and  her  eyes  gleamed  as  she  turned  them  on  him. 

"  An  apology  to  a  real  friend  is  the  unfriendliest  thing 
I  know,"  she  said  with  a  charming  glance.  "  Believe  me,  I 
forgive  you  without  explanation.  That"  with  a  sudden 
sad  lowering  of  her  head,  "  is  more  than  you  could  honestly 
say  with  regard  to  me." 

"  You  are  wrong.  That  is  what  principally  brought  me 
here  to-day.  To  tell  you  that  I  entirely — honestly  as  you 
say — forgive  you  all  the  past." 

Mrs.  Scarlett  moved  a  little  into  the  shadow  and  bit  her 
lips  sharply.  She  hardly  liked  this  generous  condonement 
of  her  offence.  She  would  have  preferred  the  old  anger — 
the  unmeasured  scorn.  As  a  rule,  when  one  forgives,  it 
means  that  one  has  ceased  to  care. 

"  How  good  you  are,"  she  said  very  softly.  "  Though  if 
you  knew  all  there  might  not  perhaps  be  so  much  left  to 
pardon.  But  as  you  don't  know,  it  is  indeed  good  of  you. 
Fulke,  if  I  dared  explain " 


zo6  MARVEL, 

"  I  think  it  will  be  better  not,"  said  he  steadily.  "  No 
good  ever  yet  came  of  explanations  such  as  that.  '  Let  the 
dead  past  bury  its  dead.'  The  present  may  contain  other 
things,  that  I  have  you  as  a  friend  for  instance." 

"  I  am  always  your  friend,"  said  she  gently,  though  a 
little  glitter  had  come  into  her  eyes.  "  Whether  you  are 
mine  is  the  question." 

"  My  dear  Mrs.  Scarlett !  Surely  a  very  unnecessary 
one ! " 

She  startled  visibly  as  he  addressed  her  by  her  surname. 

"  Is  it  to  be  no  longer  Leonie  then  ?  "  she  asked. 

" I  think,"  slowly,  "it  will  be  better  not." 

"  And  you.  Are  you  to  be  Lord  Wriothesley  to  me  in 
the  future  ?  " 

"  I  think  that,  too,  will  be  wise,"  replied  he  in  the  same 
measured  tone. 

Mrs.  Scarlett  accepted  her  defeat  with  a  courage  that  did 
her  credit.  Not  a  glance,  not  a  movement,  betrayed  her. 
Perhaps  she  had  caught  at  that  word  "  wise  "  and  saw  light 
through  it. 

"  Wisdom !  That  cold  thing !  "  she  said  with  a  low 
laugh.  "  But  if  it  is  better — safer — so  be  it  then.  Don't 
stand  so  far  over  there,  you  will  be  frozen.  Come  nearer 
to  the  fire."  She  herself  drew  her  chair  a  little  closer  to 
where  the  fragrant  pine  logs  were  blazing  cheerily.  But 
Wriothesley  did  not  alter  his  position.  "  That  ball  last 
night  was  a  success,"  she  went  on.  "  All  the  best  people 
in  Europe  were  at  it,  I  think,  to  say  nothing  of  celebrities. 
By-the-by,  talking  of  celebrities,  what  a  lovely  woman  Lady 
Wriothesley  is ;  she  took  us  all  very  much  by  surprise.  How 
came  it  :hat  you  did  not  recognize  her  last  night  ?  " 

"  It  was  unpardonably  stupid  of  me  I  must  allow.  But — 
she  was  so  changed." 

"  I  can  quite  believe  that.  Even  sinc«  /  first  made  her 
acquaintance  she  has  altered  to  quite  a  remarkable  degree, 
not  only  in  appearance,  but  in — manners.  In  what  does 
this  change  of  which  you  speak  consist  ?  " 

"  When  I  married  her,"  said  Wriothesley  in  a  musing 
tone,  his  eyes  fixed  on  the  glowing  fire,  "she  was  a  little 
simple  country  girl." 


MARVEL.  207 

"  Ah  !  well,  she  has  left  all  that  behind  her ;  a  fact  on 
which  you  may  be  congratulated.  Little  simple  country 
maidens  grow  wearisome  on  a  lengthened  acquaintance. 
Lady  Wriothesley  found  that  out,  I  suppose,  because  she 
adopted  the  ways  of  the  world  in  quite  a  marvellously  short 
time.  She  is  quick  to  learn.  Still,  for  a  husband  not  to 
know  his  wife  !  You  will  pardon  me  if  I  say  it  was  almost 
too  strange  to  be  true." 

"  It  was  true,  nevertheless.  I  suppose  the  fact  that  I 
believed  her  and  Mrs.  Verulam  to  be  up  in  the  north  may 
partially  account  for  my  failing  to  recognize  her.  Another 
thing,  I  had  never  before  seen  her  en  grande  toilette.  And 
was  not  her  hair  done  in  some  strange  way  ?  " 

"  It  was  done  in  the  very  height  of  the  fashion — a  new  style 
that  suits  the  ingenue"  said  Mrs.  Scarlett  rather  bitterly. 
"  Being  the  fashion  herself  she  is  right  to  adopt  all  its  modes 
of  adding  to  one's  popularity.  Your  wife  is  quite  the  rage 
now ;  duchesses  run  after  her,  princes  vie  with  each  other 
for  the  honour  of  a  dance,  and  she  can  count  her  levers  by 
the  score." 

Wriothesley  flushed  a  dark  red.  Through  all  the  scanda- 
lous exaggeration  of  her  words  might  there  not  be  a  grain 
of  truth  ?  He  managed  a  laugh  however. 

"There  is  safety  in  a  multitude,"  he  said  with  an  effort 
at  carelessness  that  did  not  escape  her.  Few  things  did. 

"  But  there  is  always  the  one  flawless  jewel  in  the  string/' 
she  said,  "  however  poor  it  be." 

Wriothesley  made  a  sudden  movement  expressive  of  dis- 
pleasure. 

"  I  must  beg  you  will  not  discuss  Lady  Wriothesley,"  he 
said  a  little  formally. 

"  As  you  will,  of  course,"  said  Mrs.  Scarlett,  in  whom  the 
devil  was  now  fully  roused.  "  But  if  I  were  you  I  should 
try  to  get  accustomed  to  it.  You  will  hear  her  very  minutely 
discussed  on  all  hands.  Nigel  Savage's  infatuation  for  her 
is  in  the  mouth  of  every  one." 

For  the  space  of  a  minute  Wriothesley  was  silent.  He 
was  occupied  with  a  picture  that  had  risen  before  him. 
Once  again  he  held  his  wife's  inanimate  body  in  his  arms, 
and  looked  across  it  at  a  man,  pale,  stunned,  who  looked  back 


208  MARVEL. 

again  at  him  with  a  murderous  hatred  in  his  eyes.  Then  it 
all  faded,  and  he  turned  to  Mrs.  Scarlett  with  a  touch  of 
hauteur. 

"  We  will  leave  Lady  Wriothesley's  name  out  of  our  con- 
versation," he  said  with  determination.  Then,  as  though 
with  a  view  to  give  the  desired  change  to  the  discourse, 
he  went  on  quickly,  "  Do  you  remain  long  in  town  ?  " 

"  A  day  or  two  only.  Then  we  all  go  down  to  Verulam 
Court." 

"  Indeed !     And  who  do  you  mean  by  '  we  ? ' n 

"  The  usual  set,  with  an  addition  here  and  there,  thrown 
in  to  prevent  our  wearying  one  of  the  other.  I  am  going, 
and  the  Mainwarings,  and  Sir  George  and  Mrs.  Verulam — 
you  know  there  is  an  old  affaire  there — and  Mr.  Savage 
and  your  wife,  but  of  course  you  know  that,"  with  a 
malicious  emphasis,  "  and  the  Damerons  and  a  few  others. 
You  are  going,  too,  I  presume  ?  " 

"  I  have  not  been  asked." 

"  But  you  will  be,  naturally." 

"  I  do  not  think  I  shall  go,  even  so." 

"  I  should,  if  I  were  you.  It  amounts  almost  to  a  duty. 
You  have  been  so  very  long  separated  from  your  wife,  and 
Lady  Wriothesley  is  so  young  and  so  singularly  thought- 
less." 

She  had  returned  to  the  charge,  even  against  his  expressed 
desire,  with  a  daring  unequalled.  Wriothesley  frowned. 

"  Lady  Wriothesley  should  be  grateful  for  the  interest 
you  take  in  her,"  he  said  stiffly. 

"  I  take  none.  The  interest  I  feel  is  all  centred  in  you. 
She  is  your  wife,  Wriothesley ;  and  I  shall  always  feel  the 
keenest  interest  in  you  and  your — honour." 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

"'Tis  the  eternal  law, 
That  first  in  beauty  should  be  first  in  might." 

THE  word  rang  in  his  ears  as  he  left  the  house.    His  honour ! 
He    breathed  more  freely  as  he  got  out  of  that   heated 


MARVEIX  209 

atmosphere  with  the  enervating  perfume  of  the  many 
flowers,  but  he  carried  away  with  him,  as  she  meant  he 
should,  a  deadly  fear  at  his  heart.  All  through,  her  insinua- 
tions had  tended  towards  one  point,  and  that  was  a  terrible 
one.  Their  honour  had  always  been  a  precious  thing  in 
the  sight  of  all  his  house,  and  now  even  to  have  it  breathed 
upon  seemed  an  accursed  thing. 

And  it  was  all  his  own  fault.  He  acknowledged  that  as 
he  strolled  idly  along  the  pavement,  his  head  bent  down- 
wards. He  had  most  cruelly  neglected  her.  that  child  who 
was  his  wife,  and  flung  her  as  it  were  defenceless,  innocent, 
ignorant  into  the  jaws  of  a  merciless  world.  What  wonder 
if,  finding  herself  lonely  and  deserted,  she  had  turned  to 
the  first  tender  word  offered  her,  and  like  a  flower  had 
opened  and  expanded  beneath  the  warmth  and  sunshine  of 
a  passionate  love. 

Yet  had  he  been  so  altogether  to  blame  ?  It  was  she 
who  of  her  own  free  will  had  abandoned  him.  He  alone 
knew  the  wildness,  the  strength  of  the  temptation  that  then 
had  assailed  him,  to  return  with  her  to  England  and  see,  if 
only  once  again,  the  woman  he  then  loved  with  such  an 
absorbing  devotion.  He  had  conquered  that  desire,  had 
wandered  far  afield  into  places  unknown  of  men,  untravelled, 
quick  with  danger,  to  try  and  kill  a  passion  that  he  felt  was 
a  base  wrong  to  the  woman  he  had  married. 

Still  he  knew  he  was  in  fault.  He  did  not  try  to  shirk 
that ;  only,  there  were  surely  extenuating  circumstances.  The 
question  now  was,  what  was  to  be  done  ?  He  could  only 
hope  the  mischief  was  not  already  so  deeply  rooted  that  it 
could  not  be  eradicated.  That  Savage  was  in  love  with  his 
wife  he  could  not  doubt  after  that  scene  last  night,  but  what 
of  her  ?  Unconsciously  he  began  to  walk  faster,  and  a  fear 
that  was  akin  to  despair  fell  on  him. 

He  \vould  not  believe  it  yet.  That  woman  might  have 
spoken  falsely.  A  -word  exaggerated  has  often  created 
material  for  a  lifelong  quarrel,  and  with  what  viperish 
bitterness  she  had  spoken  of  Marvel.  He  would  speak  to 
Cicely.  She  had  evidently  great  influence  over  Marvel,  and 
if  she  had  the  deuce  of  a  temper,  still  her  head  and  her 
heart  were  sound.  As  for  this  visit  to  Verulam,  he  would 

14 


210  MAEVEL. 

prevent  that  at  all  hazards.  This  new  Marvel  was  of  course 
a  little  strange  to  him,  but  the  old  Marvel  had  been  so 
willing  to  obey,  to  comply  with  any  request  of  those  older 
than  her,  that  he  felt  the  habit  could  not  have  entirely  worn 
off,  and  she  would  give  in  to  him  when  he  showed  her  how 
he  objected  to  her  acceptance  of  Lady  Lucy's  invitation. 

"  Those  older  than  her  !"  It  suddenly  returned  to  him 
that  she  was  but  eighteen,  and  he  was — twenty-nine.  A 
terrible  disparity.  She  was  a  child  still ;  he  a  man  worn 
and  tired  of  the  buffetings  of  fortune.  Eleven  years 
stood  between  them  as  an  inseparable  barrier.  He  smiled 
grimly  to  himself  as  he  remembered  it  was  a  little  too  late 
to  lament  over  that.  Then  the  smile  faded.  Good 
heavens !  what  a  mess  he  had  made  of  his  life.  He  had 
sowed,  he  had  reaped,  and  the  sowing  and  the  reaping  were 
alike  bitter.  And  now,  to  crown  all,  he  felt  that  he  had  de- 
stroyed that  poor  child's  life  as  well  as  his  own  ;  had  dragged 
her  down  into  the  dull  monotony  that  alone  was  left  to  him. 
If  her  "  auntie  "  could  but  have  foreseen !  And  to  him  she 
had  left  her  child  to  guard,  to  cherish. 

Well,  he  would  save  her  from  herself,  at  least,  if  that 
might  be.  He  would  positively  forbid  this  visit  to  Lady 
Lucy,  but  not  this  evening.  She  was  tired ;  her  head 
ached.  He  would  put  off  any  unpleasant  topic  until  the 
morning. 

He  had  reached  his  own  house  by  this,  and  crept  very 
quietly  up  the  staircase,  lest  she  might  have  fallen  asleep  in 
one  of  the  rooms,  and  his  footstep  should  rouse  her.  He 
was  going  with  special  carefulness  past  the  cosy  small 
drawing-room  that  she  seemed  to  affect,  when  the  sound  of 
gay  laughter  and  the  tinkling  of  silver  against  dainty  china 
caught  his  ear. 

He  pulled  up  as  if  taken  by  surprise,  and  turning  the 
handle  of  the  door  entered  the  room. 

Twilight  was  here,  too,  but  it  was  of  a  more  orthodox 
sort  than  lit  Mrs.  Scarlett's  apartment.  It  came  straight 
from  the  sky.  t  Here,  too,  a  glorious  fire  shone  brilliantly, 
and  the  perfume  of  flowers  was  not  absent.  The  laughter 
and  the  tinkling  arose  from  the  lips  and  the  spoons  of  quite 
a  number  of  people  who  were  scattered  about  the  room. 


MAEVEL.  211 

and  who  were  all  apparently  enjoying  themselves  immensely 
without  let  or  hindrance. 

Marvel  was  the  centre  of  a  little  group  that  surrounded 
the  tea-tray.  She  was  dressed  in  an  exquisite  tea-gown  of 
old  gold  satin  half  smothered  in  lace.  Lord  Castlerock  was 
eating  unlimited  lumps  of  sugar  out  of  her  delicate  little 
silver  bowl,  and  Savage  was  leaning  over  her  chair  telling 
her  of  something  absurdly  comic  that  had  occurred  at  last 
night's  rout.  Three  or  four  lamps  had  been  lit  in  the 
background,  but  they  conduced  more  to  the  softening  of 
the  scene  than  to  the  actual  giving  of  light. 

The  \vhole  made  an  exquisite  picture.  Mrs.  Verulam 
was  the  first  to  see  him,  and  she  rustled  towards  him  in 
her  wonderful  new  gown  that  combined  all  the  blues  in 
creation,  harmoniously  blended  together,  and  addressed 
him  with  quite  a  gracious  air.  Since  last  she  had  seen  him 
she  had  come  to  the  conclusion  that  harsh  words  seldom 
win,  and  that  to  catch  him  with  guile  would  be  the  easier 
plan. 

"  Come  and  speak  to  Lady  Lucy,  she  is  so  anxious  to 
see  you.  It  appears  her  mother  will  never  forgive  you  for 
not  making  yourself  known  to  her  last  night.  But  if  nicely 
managed  Lucy  will  smooth  all  that." 

Wriothesley  suffered  himself  to  be  led  up  to  Lady  Lucy, 
who  welcomed  him  exactly  as  if  she  had  seen  him  yesterday, 
and  then  gave  him  a  sound  rating  into  the  bargain.  He 
only  got  off  by  promising  to  call  on  Lady  Elaine  next  day, 
and  proffering  in  person  his  homage  and  his  apologies. 

"  A  godmother  is  at  least  somebody  I "  said  Lady  Lucy, 
still  a  little  indignant.  "  And  to  slight  mamma,  who  has 
always  adored  you — though  why " 

"  My  godmother  is  more  than  that,"  said  Wriothesley, 
wisely  breaking  into  what  promised  to  be  a  very  unsatisfac- 
tory speech.  "  She  is  the  most  charming  of  her  sex.  No, 
I  shall  not  make  a  single  exception." 

"  Well,  mind  you  come  to-morrow.  We  have  had  quite 
a  time  with  her  to-day,  after  Markham  had  most  in- 
judiciously told  her  of  your  being  actually  seen  last  night 
by  reliable  witnesses." 

"  I  shall  certainly  not  forget." 


212  MARVEL. 

He  made  his  escape  then  and  went  deliberately  across 
the  room  to  where  Marvel  was  standing  looking  at  the  first 
proof  of  a  poem  that  was  not  written  by  Mrs.  Geraint. 

"  It  is  charming  !  What  a  gift ! "  she  was  saying.  "  I 
hear  Cregan  and  Peters  think  so  well  of  it.  Will  you  tell 
Mr.  Morland  that  I  am  indebted  to  him  for  ever  for  having 
given  me  this  early  glimpse  of  it  ?  May  I  keep  it,  do  you 
think  until  to-morrow?  I  should  so  like  to  read  it  when 
I  am  alone,  and  can  more  fully  appreciate  it." 

"  Oh,  certainly.  And The  fact  is,  Lady  Wriothes- 

ley,  I  am  sent  to  you  as  an  envoy  from  Morland  to  ask  if 
you  will  permit  him  to  dedicate  this  volume  to  you.  Do 
not  refuse  him,  I  beseech  you.  His  very  heart  is  set  on 
it." 

"  Refuse  him — no  !  "  she  replied  very  sweetly.  "  Tell 
him  from  me  I  shall  be  not  only  pleased,  but  proud. 
Recognition  from  such  talent  as  his  is  indeed  an  honour." 

Her  companion  bowed. 

"  If  you  will  permit  me  I  shall  take  my  leave  at  once," 
he  said  ;  "  such  news  as  I  have  to  convey  to  Morland 
should  not,  I  think,  be  delayed  a  moment." 

She  gave  him  her  hand  and  he  withdrew.  As  he  did  so, 
Wriothesley,  who  had  heard  all,  took  his  place. 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 

"  When  a  man  is  wrong  and  won't  admit  it,  he  always  gets 
angry." 

"  You  seem  to  sway  the  world  in  which  you  move,"  said  he 
with  a  smile  that  was  rather  forced.  "  Poets  and  princes 
alike  offer  you  homage.  I  have  almost  forgotten  the  old 
Marvel." 

"  You  have  had  time,"  said  she  calmly. 

"  True,"  said  he,  changing  colour.  "  I  hope,  too,  I  shall 
have  time  granted  me  to  learn  the  new  one." 

"  That  is  in  your  own  power.  By  what  you  say,  how- 
ever, I  suppose  you  do  not  mean  to  go  abroad  again 
immediately," 


MARVEL.  213 

"  Not  at  all—  possibly.  Conscience,  though  tardy,  had 
hinted  to  me  at  last  that  where  one  has  large  estates  one 
has  many  poor,  and  that  it  is  my  duty  to  look  after  them. 
So  I  have  come  home — for  good." 

A  little  bitter  smile  flitted  across  her  face. 

"  I  am  glad  you  remembered — your  poor,"  she  said  ; 
"  perhaps  they  are  not  as  forsaken  as  you  imagine.  I  have 
made  inquiries  about  them  ;  I  have  done  what  I  could." 

"  You  ! "  he  looked  at  her  in  surprise. 

"  Don't  let  that  so  astonish  you,"  she  said  coldly.  "  One 
must  do  something,  or  else  die  or  go  mad.  And  you 
forget,  or  perhaps  you  do  not  know,  that  I  was  auntie's 
almoner  for  several  years,  young  as  I  was ;  her  accountant 
too — her  helper  in  many  ways.  Alas  !  Those  happy  days  !  " 
She  sighed  heavily  and  clasped  her  hands  before  her. 
After  a  little  while  she  lifted  her  head  and  for  the  first 
time  looked  full  at  him. 

"  You  have  sought  me,"  she  said.  "  You  have  something 
to  say  to  me  ?  " 

"  You  have  guessed  rightly.  I  have  been  told  that  you 
are  going  to  Verulam  this  month." 

"When  Mrs.  Scarlett  told  you  that,  she  told  you  the 
truth." 

He  flushed  again,  though  his  conscience  was  surely 
guiltless,  but  she,  seeing  the  flush,  did  not  believe  it. 

"  I  want  you  to  cancel  your  engagement  to  Lady  Lucy," 
he  said,  trying  to  speak  lightly,  naturally,  but  failing  because 
of  the  steady  gaze  of  those  two  large  lovely  eyes.  "  I  do 
not  want  you  to  go  to  Verulam." 

"No!     And  why?" 

"  For  many  reasons.  But  one  of  them  will  suffice.  I 
am  not  going  to  Verulam  and — we  have  been  too  long 
separated  as  it  is.  It  will  be  better  for  your  sake  that 
we  give  the  world  no  longer  food  for  ta'k.  Let  us  for  the 
future  try,  at  least  publicly,  to  be  on  friendly  terms.  The 
slightest  whisper  hurts  a  woman's  reputation." 

"  Ah  !  You  have  thought  of  that,"  she  said  with  a  pale 
smile.  He  saw  it  and  it  angered  him. 

"  You  compel  me  to  think  of  it  now,"  he  said  somewhat 
hastily. 


214  MARVEL. 

"  Is  there  a  meaning  in  what  you  say  ?  Why  should  not 
all  this  have  been  considered  a  year  ago  ?  Eighteen 
months  ago  ?  " 

"  I  know  you  have  every  right  to  upbraid  me  on  that 
score.  But  an  evil,  however  long  in  practice,  may  be 
stopped.  I  would  stop  this — with  your  assistance,"  courte- 
ously. "  Will  you  give  up  this  visit  and  spend  the  winter 
with  me  instead  ?  " 

"  And  where  ?     Have  you  arranged  that  too  ? 

"At  The  Towers,  I  suppose." 

"  The  Towers  !  Oh,  no  !  Never — never !  "  she  shrank 
from  him  as  though  he  had  dealt  her  a  blow. 

"Ringwood  then — or  Cranston.  I  don't  think  you  have 
ever  seen  Cranston." 

"  No,"  she  answered  indifferently,  and  as  though  she 
would  have  said  <l  I  do  not  care  if  I  never  do."  He  waited 
for  her  to  speak  again,  but  she  said  nothing,  standing  there 
before  him,  tall  and  slender,  with  her  eyes  fixed  upon  the 
pot  of  forced  narcissi  near  her,  and  the  light  from  the  distant 
lamps  falling  across  the  golden  shimmer  of  her  gown ;  she 
stood  quite  motionless  ;  the  laces  on  her  bosom  rose  and 
fell  quickly,  but  she  showed  no  other  sign  of  emotion. 

"  Well  ? "  he  said  at  last,  with  a  touch  of  impatience. 
"  You  will  give  me  an  answer  ?  " 

"You  ask  me  to  give  up  this  month  at  Verulam  which 

I  should  enjoy,  to  go  with  you — you "  she  paused  as 

though  to  conquer  some  rising  words —  "to  the  dulness 
of  isolation.  Is  that  it  ?  " 

"It  need  not  be  isolation,"  coldly.  "You  can  ask  as 
many  friends  as  you  wish." 

"  Your  friends  ?  " 

"  No.     Yours,  of  course." 

"  If  I  did,  I  should  ask  precisely  those  whom  I  shall 
meet  at  Verulam  ;  therefore,  why  not  go  to  Verulam  ?  " 

"  I  have  told  you.     I  shall  not  be  there." 

"  I  am  sure  Lady  Lucy  will  be  charmed  to  give  you  an 
invitation,"  said  she  carelessly.  She  threw  up  her  head  and 
sighed  a  little,  as  if  weary  of  the  subject. 

"  That  is  not  the  question.  I  do  not  desire  to  go,  and  I 
strongly  object  to  your  going.  You  do  not  understand  me." 


MARVEL.  215 

"  I  do,  entirely.  You  wish,  now  it  has  pleased  you  to 
rome  home  after  nearly  two  years,  to  play  the  tyrant  and 
deprive  me  of  a  pleasure  to  which  I  have  been  looking  for- 
ward." It  really  did  seem  to  her  at  this  moment  that  she 
had  been  thus  anticipating  it  with  a  longing  heart,  yet  how 
heartily  at  one  time  she  had  prayed  against  it. 

"  There  you  wrong  me,"  said  he  quickly.  "  I  would  not 
thwart,  I  would  be  of  use  to  you,  believe  me  or  not  as  you 
will.  That,  however,  is  a  matter  that  can  be  discussed  later 
on.  You  will  make  up  your  mind  to  do  what  I  think  is  wise 
in  this  matter  ?  " 

"  I  know  so  little  of  you.  Your  wisdom  is  so  hid  from  me 
that  I  may  perhaps  deem  it  folly.  And  at  all  events,  I  shall 
not  break  my  word  with  Lady  Lucy." 

She  had  grown  very  pale,  and  so  had  he.  He  looked  at 
her. 

"  Am  I  to  understand  that  you  refuse  to  accede  to  my 
request  ?  " 

"  You  are  to  understand  that  I  have  given  my  word,  and 
I  shall  keep  to  it." 

"In  spite  of  all  I  have  said — that  I  believe  it  necessary  that 
you  should  accompany  me  ?  " 

"  Your  reasons  ?  "  she  asked  with  a  little  frown.  "  You 
speak  many  words,  but  you  give  no  solid  reason.  Why  should 
1  give  in  to  you  ?  "  There  was  a  sudden  flash  in  her  eyes 
that  should  have  warned  him  that  her  patience  was  wellnigh 
spent. 

"  Because  I  am  your  husband  ! "  he  said  with  some  heat. 
"You  have  not  forgotten  that  fact,  I  suppose,  and  that  as 
such  I  have  some  small  right  to  control  your  actions." 

"  I  deny  it !  "  she  cried,  losing  the  calmness  she  had  culti- 
vated so  long,  and  now  breaking  out  into  a  passion  of 
indignation.  "  You,  who  neglected,  abandoned  me  to  the 
comments  of  the  world  whose  cruelty  you  yourself  profess 
so  well  to  know,  what  right  have  you  to  come  now  and  take 
possession  of  me,  my  friendships,  my  very  movements,  and 
control  and  order  them  as  though  I  were  a  very  puppet? 
Oh  !  no,  Lord  Wriothesley,  that  would  be  impossible." 

She  made  a  little  eloquent  gesture,  as  though  to  empha- 
size her  words.  Wriothesley  stood  gazing  at  her,  silenced, 


216  MAKVEL. 

amazed  by  this  vehemence,  for  which  he  had  not  been  pre- 
pared. The  sense  of  neglect — of  trust  betrayed — that  had 
burned  itself  into  the  girl's  heart  here  found  some  small  out- 
let, and  she  seized  eagerly  upon  it.  It  was  so  little  to  say,  so 
little  out  of  all  the  bitterness,  the  misery  that  she  had  felt, 
and  yet  it  eased  in  a  measure  her  aching  heart,  that  longed 
so  piteously  for  some  return  of  the  love  it  felt.  But  with 
her  love  there  was  mingled  an  honest  pride  that  cased  her 
heart  with  bands  of  steel  and  forbid  her  to  give  to  any  man 
a  gift  so  priceless,  to  be  despised,  perchance  rejected. 

"  You  have  decided  then,"  said  he  sternly ;  "  you  will 
go  to  Verulam  ?  " 

"  Certainly,"  with  cold  distinctness. 

"  There  is  but  one  thing  more  then  that  I  can  do,"  replied 
he.  He  cast  at  her  a  glance  full  of  displeasure,  and  crossed 
the  room  to  where  Lady  Lucy  Verulam  was  sitting. 


CHAPTER    XXXVI. 

"  Surely  where  there  is  plenty,  charity  is  a  duty,  not  a  courtesy. 
It  is  a  tribute  imposed  by  Heaven  upon  us,  and  he  is  not  a  good 
subject  who  refuses  to  pay  it." 

"  So  you  are  going  to  carry  off  Lady  Wriothesley,"  he 
said,  dropping  into  a  chair  beside  her.  His  smile  was  rather 
a  forced  one,  though  his  tone  was  easy. 

"  Yes,  that  stroke  of  fortune  has  fallen  to  me.  You  must 
not  interfere  with  that  arrangement,  Fullce,"  she  said  hastily, 
catching  sight  of  his  face.  "  It  is  a  promise  of  old  standing, 
and  I  am  bent  on  taking  her  to  Verulam." 

"  Oh,  I  shall  not  interfere ;  be  happy  about  that,"  said 
he  with  ill-suppressed  bitterness.  "But  hav^e  you  considered 
what  is  to  be  done  with  me  ?  " 

"  I  shall  take  you  too,  of  course,"  she  said  laughing.  "  Is 
that  it  ?  How  absurd  you  are,  pretending  to  beg  for  invita- 
tions as  if  you  did  not  know  you  would  be  welcome  as  the 
flowers  in  May.  Mamma  will  be  of  my  party  and  will  be 
in  the  seventh  heaven  when  she  knows  you  are  coming. 
My  father  is  down  there  already." 


MARVEL.  317 

"  The  marquis  ?  I  am  glad  to  hear  he  is  able  to  move 
about." 

"  In  his  bath  chair  only.  But  he  quite  misses  the  children 
now,  so  that  he  often  comes  to  us,  as  they  cannot  altogether 
live  with  their  grannies.  He  is  much  stronger,  and  fortu- 
nately his  mind  is  as  clear  as  ever." 

They  had  some  more  desultory  talk  about  the  old  people 
and  the  family  generally,  not  worth  recording.  Marvel,  who 
had  seated  herself  somewhere  near,  had  heard  all,  and  was 
surprised  at  his  sudden  determination  to  goto  Verulam.  It 
did  not  displease  her.  It  seemed  indeed  the  one  sensible 
thing  to  do.  Why  he  had  not  decided  on  it  sooner  was  what 
puzzled  her.  He  had  said  there  were  reasons  why  she  should 
not  go  to  Verulam,  but  he  had  in  a  way  declined  to  give 
them,  and  indeed  what  reason  could  there  be  ?  (  Suddenly 
she  remembered  the  old  foolish  story  about  Nigel  Savage. 
Could  he  have  heard  that  ?  Could  Mrs.  Scarlett  have  made 
mischief  about  it  ?  She  blushed  vividly  as  this  thought  oc- 
curred to  her,  but  in  a  moment  she  had  decided  that  it  was 
but  foolishness.  From  first  to  last  it  had  been  but  an  idle 
tale  without  an  atom  of  foundation,  and  now  she  could  s^e 
that  people  had  forgotten  all  about  it. 

She  looked  over  to  where  Savage  was  sitting  listening  to 
pretty  Mrs.  Dameron's  lispings  as  though  his  heart  was  set 
upon  them,  and  she  smiled  to  herself.  Yes,  it  was  only  a 
mischievous  bit  of  gossip  when  all  was  said,  expelled  by  the 
mind  almost  as  quickly  as  it  entered  it. 

He  did,  indeed,  at  the  moment  seem  attracted  by  Mrs. 
Dameron,  who  was  very  well  content  to  have  him  by  her. 
She  had  not  an  ounce  of  brains,  but  she  could  talk  prettily  a 
certain  jabber  of  her  own  that  kept  men,  even  clever  ones 
sometimes,  by  her  side.  She  was  so  far  original  that  her 
"  little  ways,"  as  they  were  called,  were  all  her  own,  and  by 
her  admirers  were  voted  charming.  Yet  if  she  could  have  seen 
into  Savage's  breast  as  he  sat  beside  her,  to  all  open  seem- 
ing, hanging  on  her  words,  the- weariness,  the  eager  longing 
to  be  elsewhere  that  reigned  there,  would  have  been  a  fatal 
blow  to  her  vanity. 

After  a  while,  Lady  Lucy  rose  to  say  good-bye,  and  pre- 
sently they  all  rustled  away,  leaving  only  Wriothesley. 


2i3  MAEVEL. 

"  You  will  dine  with  us  ? "  asked  Mrs.  Verulam,  seeing 
Marvel  remain  silent. 

"  I  think  not, "  he  said,  after  a  moment's  glance  at  his 
wife. 

"Your  club?" 

"Yes." 

"A  mere  excuse,"  thought  Mrs.  Verulam  ;  "he  has  evi- 
dently made  an  appointment  to  dine  with  her.  Oh !  for 
the  days  of  the  Medicis." 

Wriothesley  was  now  looking  at  Marvel. 

"  I  am  glad  your  headache  is  so  much  better,"  said  he 
with  a  touch  of  sarcasm.  He  had  not  forgotten  how  she 
had  been  laughing  when  he  entered  the  room  an  hour  ago, 
and  how  she  had  not  so  much  as  smiled  ever  since. 

"  It  is  gone,"  said  Marvel  quickly.  She  turned  to  him 
and  smiled  now,  at  all  events.  She  was  a  little  repentant 
for  the  part  she  had  acted  during  their  late  conversation, 
and  wished  in  somewise  to  prove  to  him  that  though  they 
could  never  be  the  good  old  friends  they  once  had  been, 
still  they  might  be  on  kindly  terms  for  all  that.  "  I  think 
the  fact  of  their  all  dropping  in  like  that  took  it  away." 
This  was  a  rather  unfortunate  speech,  but  he  was  so 
astonished  by  that  unexpected  smile  that  he  forgot  to  take 
any  notice  of  it  then. 

"Whatever  the  cause  of  its  removal,  I  am  glad  it  is 
gone,"  he  said. 

"  If  you  have  nothing  better  to  do,"  said  she,  still  anxious 
to  establish  an  amicable  footing  between  them,  "  I  think 
you  had  better  change  your  mind  and  dine  here." 

Mrs.  Verulam  looked  up  in  some  trepidation.  How 
would  she  take  his  refusal  ?  To  her  astonishment,  however, 
no  refusal  came, 

"  Thank  you,  yes ;  if  you  will  allow  me,"  he  said  simply, 
and  stayed. 

The  following  week  they  all  went  down  to  Verulam.  They 
met  Kitts  at  the  station,  bound  on  the  same  journey,  and 
found  him  a  valuable  acquisition,  as  there  was  always  a  strain 
in  their  relation  to  each  other,  no  matter  how  hard  Marvel 
fought  to  be  specially  civil,  if  studiously  cold,  and  conversa- 
tion as  a  rule  was  of  the  languishing  order.  Mr.  Kitts,  on  the 


MAKVEL.  219 

contrary,  was  troubled  by  no  strain,  and  as  he  dearly  loved 
his  own  voice,  chattered  ceaselessly  by  rail  and  road  and 
even  up  the  stone  steps  leading  to  the  hall  door  ot 
Verulam,  where  a  servant  seizing  upon  him,  bore  him  away 
from  the  others  and  so  put  a  stop  to  the  animated  and 
scientific  discussion  on  fireworks  he  had  only  just  begun 
with  Mrs.  Verulam. 

Hard  and  cold  weather  followed  on  their  arrival.  A 
deadly,  biting  wintry  weather,  severe  enough  to  freeze 
one's  warmest  affections.  The  sportsmen  of  the  party  had 
an  excellent  time  of  it  for  the  first  four  days,  but  on  the 
fifth  they  came  downstairs  to  find  a  white  world  outside 
the  windows  and  the  snow  descending  with  a  soft  vigour 
that  threatened  to  imprison  them  should  it  continue. 

The  children,  Lulu  Verulam  and  her  cousins,  Lady 
Lucy's  younger  boys,  were  enchanted,  and  rushed  about 
from  room  to  room  to  see  how  high  upon  each  window  sill 
the  lovely  snow  was  mounting.  They  were  enraptured  by 
the  hint  thrown  out  by  Mr.  Kitts  that  soon  the  windows 
would  all  be  blocked  up  and  the  lamps  lit  in  the  morning. 
They  were  not  even  cast  down  by  further  hints  to  the  effect 
that  the  doors  would  also  be  barricaded,  and  that  as  the 
slender  stock  of  provisions  then  in  the  house  could  not  hold 
out  long  the  pooi  besieged  would  be  driven  to  devour  each 
other.  The  children,  being  the  tenderest,  would  go  first, 
said  Mr.  Kitts  cheerfully. 

"  And  grandpapa  last,"  said  the  youngest  Verulam  boy, 
looking  at  the  old  marquis  in  his  skull-cap,  who  certainly 
did  suggest  the  idea  of  being  a  tough  morsel.  Lady  Lucy, 
who  had  a  Christmas  tree  on  hand  for  the  poor  of  the 
parish,  was  not  sorry  for  a  day  that  kept  all  indoors,  and 
towards  the  afternoon  marshalled  the  entire  force  of  guests 
into  the  library — an  immense  room — where  two  enormous 
fires  roared,  and  sat  them  down  to  the  dressing  of  dolls  and 
such-like  innocent  amusements.  There  was  to  be  no  time 
lost  over  the  putting  on  of  teagowns,  she  told  them  sternly ; 
they  were  to  work  steadily  on  until  the  first  dressing  bell 
rang ;  and  if  they  got  time  even  to  get  through  one  cup  of 
tea  each,  they  were  to  be  duly  grateful. 

It  was  a  terribly  dark  afternoon,  and  all  the  lamps  had  to 


2JO  MAKVEL. 

be  lit  at  an  abnormally  early  hour.  A  large  conservatory, 
heated  by  pipes,  opened  off  the  library,  and  this  too  was  lit 
by  coloured  lamps  that  shone  brilliantly  in  the  distance. 
The  blinds  had  not  been  pulled  down,  the  day  was  still  so 
ridiculously  young,  and  the  effect  of  the  silent,  swiftly 
falling  snow  gave  one  a  little  pleasurable  delight  in  the  cosy 
warmth  of  the  life  within  doors. 

All  sorts  of  glistening  scraps  of  satins,  silks,  and  laces 
lay  strewn  about.  Here  was  the  glitter  of  tinsel ;  there  the 
gleam  of  many-coloured  beads.  The  sparkling  of  the 
jewels  on  the  white  fingers  as  -they  drew  the  deft  needle 
through  the  gaudy  stuffs,  the  tints  of  the  exquisite  dresses 
as  the  lamps  shone  on  them,  and  beyond  and  above  all  the 
pretty  faces,  bright  with  an  honest  zeal  to  turn  out  such 
handiwork  as  should  delight  the  innocent  soul  of  the  little 
rustic,  all  made  a  charming  picture. 

Mrs.  Dameron  indeed  had  developed  a  perfect  talent  for 
the  dressing  of  dolls.  Beneath  her  touch  they  grew  from 
mere  bags  of  sawdust  into  perfect  visions  of  beauty.  She 
was  to  be  congratulated,  said  her  husband,  as  he  bent  over 
the  last  fairy  princess  she  had  produced ; — it  was  the  first 
symptom  of  cleverness  she  had  ever  shown.  After  her  came 
Marvel,  who  really  did  wonders  with  her  dolls — and  after 
Marvel  came  Mr.  Kitts.  He  was  found  out  presently, 
principally  on  account  of  the  silence  that  had  marked  him 
for  its  own  during  the  past  ten  minutes.  OM  Lady  Elaine, 
who  walked  up  and  down  amongst  the  workers  at  this 
fashionable  Dorcas  meeting  like  a  queen  of  the  grand  old 
order  we  are  accustomed  to  dream  of  when  we  fall  into 
reminiscences  of  our  childhood,  was  the  first  to  discover 
him. 

He  was  sitting  in  a  deserted  corner  with  a  basket  of 
naked  dolls  before  him,  ready  to  be  dressed.  Lulu  and 
her  cousin  Horace  were  evidently  delighted  with  the  work 
on  which  he  was  engaged,  and  sat  like  little  mice  at  his  feet, 
so  absorbed  that  they  did  not  notice  the  approach  of  the 
old  marchioness.  Lady  Elaine  drew  near,  looked  over  the 
unconscious  Kitts'  shoulder,  and  grew  instantly  severe. 

Indeed,  the  sight  that  met  her  gaze  was  quite  sufficient  to 
freeze  with  horror  the  mind  of  any  well-regulated  woman. 


MAKVEL.  221 

Beside  this  wicked  young  man — this  betfayer  of  women's 
secrets — was  a  bundle  of  cotton-wool,  out  of  which  innocent 
material  he  was  fashioning  Bustles!  and  attaching  them 
to  the  simple  dolls,  whether  they  would  or  no. 

"  Samuel !  "  said  Lady  Elaine,  with  a  sternness  that  made 
him  jump.  (Mr.  Kitts  was  the  proud  possessor  of  this 
euphonious  name.)  "Really,  Samuel,  I  do  think  you 
might  find  something  better  to  do  !  " 

"I  might,"  acknowledged  Mr.  Kitts,  who  was  closely 
related  to  her,  with  profound  melancholy;  "or,"  with  a 
sudden  accession  of  cheerfulness,  "  worse ! " 

"  Lulu,  come  here,"  said  Lady  Elaine,  drawing  the  child 
away  from  such  pernicious  teachings.  Miss  Verulam 
followed  her  but  slowly. 

"  But  what's  the  harm,  grannie?"  She  always  called  the 
old  lady  by  this  endearing  title,  though  indeed  she  was 
nothing  to  her.  "  Don't  you  wear  one  yourself?" 

"My  dear,  that  is  not  the  question." 

"  But  don't  you,  though  ?  "  persisted  Lulu,  who  had  quite 
a  genius  for  running  her  prey  to  earth. 

"You  speak  too  much,  Lulu,"  said  Lady  Elaine  cor- 
rectively, with  a  view  to  self-defence.  "  Have  you  never 
heard  that  '  little  girls  should  be ' " 

"I  know  that!"  said  Miss  Verulam  contemptuously; 
"  I  can  say  that  myself.  '  Little  girls  should  be  seen  and 
not  heard.'  But  Mr.  Kitts  says  that  is  all  wrong.  He  has 
a  copybook  in  which  it  goes  quite  different  like  ;  it  is — 
'Little  girls  should  be  heard  and  not  seen.'  I  like  that 
better.  We  wouldn't  ever  have  to  be  dressed  then,  would 
we?" 

"  Oh,  Samuel ! "  said  Lady  Elaine  to  the  stricken  Kitts, 
who  was  bending  over  his  bustles  and  shaking  with  some 
thing  that  resembled  palsy.  Then  she  returned  to  Lulu. 
"  Never  to  be  dressed  ! "  she  said  mournfully.  She 
pointed  to  a  row  of  ghastly  dolls,  naked,  hideous,  that 
lay  on  a  table  near.  "  Would  you  be  like  that  ? "  she 
asked. 

"  I  couldn't  be  like  that,"  said  Lulu,  with  much  indigna- 
tion, and  then,  overcome  by  the  comic  side  of  the  affair, 
"  it  would  be  lovely  in  summer,"  she  said,  with  a  burst  of 


22»  MARVEL. 

laughter.  Her  eyes  having  wandered  to  the  table  where 
the  melancholy  dolls  lay,  went  still  further  afield,  and 
looked  with  a  growing  wonderment  on  all  these  dainty  ladies 
poring  over  their  work  as  though  their  lives  depended  upon 
the  accomplishment  of  it.  A  sudden  thought  seemed  to 
strike  her.  "Grannie,"  said  she,  turning  to  Lady  Elaine 
with  a  perplexed  air,  "  why  do  they  do  it  ?  Why  do  they 
work  like  that,  dressing  those  dolls?  Couldn't  they  buy 
them  dressed,  as  I  do  ?  " 

"  Certainly,  my  dear.  But  these  friends  of  ours  think 
they  would  like  to  do  something  for  the  poor  besides  buying 
them  things.  They  want  to  work  for  them.  You  know 
there  is  far  a  greater  sweetness  in  being  actively  kind  than 
passively  so." 

"  I  shouldn't  like  Mrs.  Geraint  to  be  kind  to  me,"  said 
Miss  Verulam  promptly,  pointing  the  finger  of  scorn  at  the 
doll  that  soulful  woman  had  just  ruined. 

"  Hush,  my  dear,"  said  Lady  Elaine,  rather  in  a  hurry. 
"  But  do  you  know,  Lulu,  ugly  as  you  think  that  doll,  there 
are  many  hundreds  of  little  girls  who  would  think  it  beauti- 
ful, because  they  have  never  had  one  at  all." 

"  What/    Never  any  doll  ?" 

"  No,  my  dear,  never.  I  could  tell  you  a  story  about  one 
little  girl,  at  all  events,  who " 

"A  story?  Take  me  up  quick,"  said  Miss  Verulam, 
scrambling  into  the  old  lady's  lap  at  full  speed.  A  story 
was  her  dear  delight.  "  Now,  go  on,"  said  she,  when  she 
had  tucked  herself  comfortably  into  Lady  Elaine's  arm. 

"  Well,  it  was  not  in  this  village  it  happened,  but  in  a 
village  very  like  the  one  near  which  I  live.  And  one  day 
a  lady — she  was  an  old  lady,  and  she  was  something  like  me 
— walked  through  this  village  out  to  the  road  beyond,  and 
on  the  edge  of  this  she  came  to  a  small  house — nay,  a  hovel 
rather — and  she  stopped  before  it,  and  paused  and  thought 
how  poor  and  sad  the  people  must  be  who  lived  in  it,  and 
at  last  she  went  in,  to — well,  to  see  if  she  could  do  anything 
for  them." 

"  I  think  she  might  have  done  it  sooner,"  said  Lulu  in- 
dignantly. "  She  was  a  horrid  old  woman,  I  think." 

"  Oh  no,  my  child  ;  I  hope  she  was  not  that.    They  were 


MARVEL.  223 

not  her  people,  you  see — her  tenants,  I  mean — and  she 
could  not  always  walk  about,  because  she  was  old  and  some- 
times very  ill,  and  besides " 

"  Well,  never  mind  about  that.  If  she  was  ill  I'm  sorry 
for  her ;  but  did  she  go  in  ?  "  asked  Lulu  impatiently. ' 

"  Yes  ;  and  the  first  thing  she  saw  was  a  little  child,  about 
your  age,  sitting  in  the  middle  of  the  floor  nursing  tenderly 
a  small  dark  bundle.  At  first  the  old  lady  could  not  make 
out  what  it  was ;  but  by  degrees  she  went  closer  without 
frightening  the  little  girl,  and  she  found  out  it  was  a  bundle  ot 
dirty  rags  tied  up  together  without  face,  or  shape,  or  form. 
It  had  no  lovely  yellow  locks,  no  big  blue  eyes.  It  could  not 
squeak  to  save  its  life  ;  there  wasn't,  indeed,  a  squeak  in  it. 
It  could  not  say  mamma  or  papa,  and  it  hadn't  a  leg  or  an 
arm,  yet  that  poor  little  child  called  it  Dolly.  It  was  all  she 
had ;  all  she  had  seen  in  the  way  of  playthings,  and  she 
seemed  so  much  as  though  a  doll  were  a  necessity  to  her, 
that  I  felt  quite  sorry." 

"Oh,  where  is  she?  where  is  she?"  cried  Lulu,  with 
tears  in  her  eyes.  "  She  shall  have  my  new  dolly.  Grannie, 
tell  me  where  she  is." 

"  Evidently  you  have  not  much  faith  in  that  old  lady," 
said  the  marchioness  smiling.  "Why  all  that  happened 
three  years  ago." 

"  Did  it  ?  "  in  a  tone  of  distinct  disappointment.  "  Oh, 
I  see.  And  did  the  old  lady  give  her  a  doll,  then  ?  " 

"  Yes,  a  very  big  doll,  as  beautifully  dressed  as  yours.  She 
sent  it  to  her  on  Christmas  Eve  ;  and  soon  afterwards  she 
•.valked  again  through  that  village  and  to  that  very  same 
house." 

"  She  saw  the  child  ?  " 

"  She  did.  She  was  sitting  on  the  floor  this  time,  too, 
and  beside  her  was  spread  a  large  clean  check  handker- 
chief that  I  think  her  mother  must  have  washed  specially  for 
the  purpose,  and  on  it  was  the  doll,  lying  out  in  state.  The 
little  one  sat  looking  at  it  with  quite  a  rapture  in  her  eyes, 
and,  do  you  know,  though  that  old  lady  had  tried  to  do  a 
few  kind  deeds  in  her  lifetime — though  far  too  few — she 
seldom,  I  think,  felt  more  pleasure  for  the  doing  of  them 
than  when  she  saw  that  child's  glad  little  face." 


224  MAKVEI* 

"  Was  it  you,  grannie  ?  Ah !  yes,  I'm  sure  it  was.  Put 
down  your  face  this  minute  till  I  give  you  a  kiss  for  that. 
I  wonder  if  there's  any  little  child  here  that  I  could  give 
my  doll  to  ?  " 

"  You  could  give  it  to  the  Christmas  tree,  and  then  it 
would  go  to  i.nme  little  girl  who  would,  I  am  sure,  be  over- 
joyed to  get  it.  That  will  be  serving  God,  my  dear,  in  a 
small  way.  You  remember  the  Bible  tells  us  how,  when  on 
earth,  children  especially  were  very  precious  to  Him."t 

"  But  perhaps  they  aren't  so  precious  now  ?  " 

"  Yes,  quite  as  dear  in  His  sight." 

"  Well,  if  so,  and  if  they  want  dolls,  why  doesn't  He  let 
them  down  through  the  roof  to  them  at  night  ? — He  might 
put  them  in  their  stockings." 

This  was  rather  puzzling.  Miss  Verulam  had  evidently, 
in  her  astute  mind,  mixed  up  the  man  with  the  palsy,  Santa 
Glaus,  and  the  Divine  power,  in  an  inextricable  confusion. 

"  Because  that  would  not  be  good  for  us,"  said  Lady 
Elaine,  blundering  out  of  it  as  best  she  could.  "  If  He  did 
all,  we  could  do  nothing ;  and  it  is  our  sacred  duty  to  look 
after  the  poor,  whom  we  have  always  with  us."  She  spoke 
with  simple  piety. 

"  Is  that  it  ?  "  said  the  child.  She  pondered  for  a  while, 
and  then  :  "And  only  for  that  He  would  love  to  shower 
down  toys  upon  the  little  poor  children  ?  " 

She  looked  at  Lady  Elaine  with  a  keen  inquiry. 

"  Yes,"  said  that  old  lady,  feeling  herself  brought  to  bay. 

"  Then  I  think  it  is  very  self-denying  of  God,"  said  the 
child  solemnly. 

Lady  Elaine  kissed  her  and  put  her  down,  whereupon 
she  instantly  returned  to  Mr.  Kitts  and  the  bustles. 


AJ.AUV.C.U  22$ 


CHAPTER  XXXVIL 

"What  is  love  worth,  pray? 

Worth  a  tear  ?  " 

•  *  *  *  • 

"  How  precious  to  me  have  been  the  prattlings  of  little  children." 

"  WELL,  you  have  all  done  so  wonderfully  well,  been  so 
strictly  industrious,  that  I  think  you  deserve  a  cup  of  tea," 
said  Lady  Lucy.  The  men  had  brought  in  the  tea  a  few 
minutes  before,  with  the  tiny  steaming  cakes  on  their  brass 
tripods,  and  the  little  American  doug-hnuts  after  which  the 
soul  of  Mr.  Kitts  hankered  ceaselessly. 

A  short  spell  of  idleness  followed.  Down  went  the 
needles,  off  went  the  thimbles ;  each  fair  worker  threw  up 
her  head  and  sighed  profoundly,  as  though  worn  out  by 
labour  severe  and  prolonged.  Mrs.  Scarlett  put  aside  het 
work  for  good  and  all,  and  carried  off  her  tea  and  Lord 
Wriothesley  to  the  distant  end  of  the  conservatory,  and 
there  kept  them.  All  the  world  had  seen  him  go  ;  no  one 
had  known  why  he  went.  It  was  willingly,  at  all  events ; 
and  for  the  matter  of  that,  it  was  easy  to  guess  the  attraction 
too.  Not  one  there  but  remembered  his  old  infatuation  for 
her;  and  so  they  all  kept  the  conversational  ball  rolling 
with  a  kindly  desire  to  prove  to  his  wife  that  they  saw 
nothing  of  what  was  going  on  in  the  conservatory. 

It  was  impossible,  however,  not  to  see.  Mrs.  Scarlett 
was  talking  in  a  very  impressive  manner,  and  Wriothesley 
was  listening  with  evident  interest.  Mrs.  Verulam's  heart 
grew  hot  within  her  with  wrath  suppressed,  and  Nigel  Savage 
with  a  quick  indrawing  of  his  breath  looked  at  Marvel. 

He  had  honestly  tried  to  keep  away  from  her  all  this 
past  week.  He  had  seen  her  avoidance  of  him,  an  avoid- 
ance that  distressed  her,  and  that  she  tried  to  atone  for  by 
kind  and  friendly  glances  thrown  to  him  now  and  then. 
But  it  had  hurt  him  nevertheless,  and  he  had  rather  helped 
her  to  a  continuance  of  it  than  sought  to  overcome  it. 
But  now,  as  he  saw  her  sitting  somewhat  apart  from  the 
others  with  drooping  head  and  a  sad  melancholy  in  all  her 


826  MAKVEL. 

bearing,  he  could  no  longer  succumb  to  his  pride,  but 
broke  its  bond  with  one  effort  and  went  straight  to  her. 

"  What  have  I  done  to  you  ?  "  he  began.  "  How  have 
I  offended  you,  that  you  will  not  look  at  me  or  speak  to 
me?" 

"  Has  it  seemed  to  you  like  that  ?  I  did  not  mean  it 
so,"  replied  she,  with  gentle  sorrow.  "  But  that  old  foolish 
story  returns  to  me  always,  and  I  fear — that " 

"  Shall  I  go  away  ?  "  said  he.  "  Would  that  make  you 
happier?  Out  of  the  country,  I  mean?" 

"  Oh,  no ;  do  not,"  said  she,  with  such  evident  earnest- 
ness that  his  heart  began  to  beat  faster.  She  looked  at 
him  with  open  entreaty  in  her  large  eyes.  "I  have  so  few 
friends,"  she  said  a  moment  later,  with  a  forlorn  little  smile. 

"  You  have  one  at  least  who  would  do  much  for  you," 
he  said.  He  had  it  on  his  lips  to  say  "  who  would  die  for 
you,"  but  he  was  afraid  to  risk  that  sweet  old  assurance. 

"  I  know  it,"  she  said  softly.  "  I  rely  upon  you  so  much 
that  I  know  you  will  not  be  angry  with  me  because  I  seem 
to  shun  you.  But  Cicely  told  me  I  could  not  be  too 
cautious,  and  that  I  was  not  to  talk  exclusively  to  you. 
Not  that  I  ever  did  that,  I  think,"  looking  at  him  anxiously. 

"  Mrs.  Verulam  is  a  woman  of  unbounded  wisdom," 
said  Savage  a  little  bitterly.  "  I  suppose  we  must  abide  by 
her  decision  ;  but,  after  all,  is  there  such  great  need  ?  Do 
you  think  Lord  Wriothesley  would  object  to  your  treating 
me  as,  say,  an  ordinary  acquaintance  ?  To  please  him  and 
satisfy  his  mind  is  it  absolutely  necessary  that  I  should  be 
denied  a  word,  a  glance  now  and  again — that  I  should  be 
put  aside  as  something  actually  unworthy  ?  " 

"You  are  offended  with  me,"  said  Marvel  in  a  low  tone. 
She  trifled  nervously  with  the  spoon  in  her  saucer,  and  he 
could  see  that  her  hand  was  trembling,  yet,  because  of  a 
sort  of  anger  against  her  in  his  heart  he  would  not  come 
to  her  rescue. 

"  I  think  I  am  the  most  unhappy  person  alive,"  she  said 
at  last,  lifting  her  eyes  to  his — they  were  full  of  tears. 
"  My  life  is  a  ruined  life.  Hope  I  have  none ;  such  things 
as  should  be  mine  I  have  lost,  through  no  fault,  I  think,  of 
my  own.  And  now — I  shall  lose  you  too." 


MARVEL.  227 

"  Never ! "  said  Savage,  with  a  little  outburst  of  feeling. 
He  could  not  subdue  that,  but  he  did  subdue  what  might 
have  followed  on  it.  "  What  I  mean  only  is  this — you  give 
me  a  chance,  you  see,  to  speak,  when  you  say  your  life  is 
ruined — if  your  life  is  lonely,  why  should  you  increase 
the  desolation  of  it  ?  Why  cast  from  you  those  who  might 
help  to  brighten  it?  If — if  he — who  should  be  the  one  to 
fill  your  existence  leaves  it  empty,  I  think  that  you " 

"  I  cannot  be  angry  with  you,"  interrupted  she  gently. 
"  But — if  you  would  only  not  speak  about  it.  You  blame 
him,  but  if  you  think  of  all,  everything,  you  will  see  that 
there  is  much  to  be  said  on  his  side  of  the  question.  When 

I   remember "      She    paused,    and    then    broke    out 

miserably,  "And  that  is  always — always — I  think,  I  feel 
as  though  I  could  forgive  him  all." 

"Even  that?'1  asked  Savage  quickly,  with  a  meaning 
glance  at  the  open  conservatory,  where  sat  Wriothesley  and 
Mrs.  Scarlett.  When  he  had  said  it  he  would  have  given 
the  world  to  recall  it,  but  it  was  too  late  then.  A  sudden 
flood  of  crimson  rushed  to  her  face,  lingered  a  moment  and 
receded,  leaving  her  white  as  the  snow  falling  so  steadily 
outside.  She  cast  one  wounded  look  at  him,  no  more,  but 
it  drove  him  frantic. 

"  Do  not  take  it  like  that,  I  beseech  you,"  he  said,  turn- 
ing his  back  completely  on  the  room  and  standing  so  as  to 
shield  her  from  observation.  "  I  would  far  rather  die  than 
hurt  you.  Lady  Wriothesley,  I  entreat,  I  implore  you  to 
forgive  that  brutal  question." 

"  You  speak  of  death  very  lightly,"  said  she,  "  you  who 

do  not  mean  what  you  say.     But  I "     Her  lips  were 

trembling,  there  was  not  a  vestige  of  colour  in  her  face — 
"  I  do  mean  it,  and  I  wish  to  Heaven  now  that  I  were  dead 
and  cold  within  my  grave." 

She  grew  so  pale  that  he  thought  she  was  going  to  faint. 
He  thought  of  the  gossip,  the  whispering,  the  insulting 
pity  that  would  follow  a  scene  of  any  kind,  and  he 
stooped  over  her  on  pretence  of  taking  her  cup,  and 
pressed  her  hand  warningly. 

"  Don't  give  way,  whatever  you  do,"  he  said.  "  Think 
of  her — her  triumph  !  And — they  will  talk,  these  others. 

15—2 


128  MAHVEL, 

Do  you  think  you  could   manage  to  come  with  me   to 
the  drawing-room — anywhere  ?  " 

"  You  are  wrong,"  she  said,  forcing  herself  to  speak  and 
look  up ;  "I  shall  not  betray  myself  as  you  fear.  "  What  ! " 
with  a  tremulous  smile,  "  will  you  not  grant  me  any  pride  ? 
I  should  not  have  spoken  as  I  did ;  it  was  wrong,  absurd 
of  me,  but  there  are  moments  when  one  loses  oneself,  and, 
though  I  regret  it,  it  has  been  a  relief  to  me." 

"  From  my  soul  /  regret  it,"  said  he  remorsefully. 

"  Do  not,"  said  she,  with  a  sigh.  "  But  since  you  have 
driven  me  to  speech,  hear  me.  That  which  you  hinted 
at,"  with  a  slight  shudder — "all,  should,  I  think,  be  for- 
given by  me,  had  I  the  magnanimity  to  do  it.  He  does 
not  care  for  me,  and  yet  but  for  me ° 

"  Not  care  for  you  ! " 

"  Is  that  to  be  so  greatly  wondered  at  ?  Think  of  what 
I  am.  I,  unknown,  a  woman  without  position — with- 
out," her  voice  sank,  and  so  did  her  eyes,  poor  child,  "a 
name  !  Oh  ! "  she  turned  to  him,  a  very  agony  of  shame 
and  regret  in  her  expression,  with  her  lips  compressed  and 
her  ringers  so  tightly  interlaced  that  the  blood  receded 
from  them,  "  would  any  man  care  to  marry  such  an  one  as 
I  am  ?  " 

"  Any  man  ?  Marvel !  Marvel !  Are  you  mad  to  tempt 
me  like  this  ?  "  cried  he  beneath  his  breath,  his  eyes  aflame. 
He  bent  over  her. 

"  Tempt ! "  she  repeated  breathlessly,  a  sudden  terror 
creeping  into  her  face.  She  drew  back,  and  this  impulsive 
shrinking  from  him  woke  him  to  a  sense  of  the  danger  he 
was  incurring  more  than  all  else  she  could  have  said  or 
done. 

"  Tempt  me  to  anger  you  again  by  censuring  him  whom 
you  so  nobly  defend,"  he  said  with  a  heavy  sigh. 

He  was  bending  over  her,  his  face  agitated,  whilst  hers 
was  white  and  full  of  melancholy,  when  Lord  Wriothesley 
came  out  of  the  conservatory.  His  brow  was  clouded  as 
he  appeared  on  the  threshold,  but  it  grew  positively  black, 
as  if  with  evil  doubts  confirmed,  as  his  glance  fell  on 
Marvel  and  Savage.  The  latter  protected  Marvel  from 
the  observation  of  the  rest  of  the  people  in  the  room  by 


MARVEL.  229 

standing  before  her,  but  from  where  Wriothesley  stood  she 
was  distinctly  visible ;  and  the  glance  he  fixed  on  her  was 
full  of  passionate  anger. 

"  She  evidently  didn't  agree  with  him,"  said  Mr.  Kitts  to 
himself  sotto  voce,  alluding  not  to  Marvel  but  to  Mrs. 
Scarlett.  He  was  sitting  near  the  entrance  to  the  con- 
servatory with  Miss  Verulam  on  his  knee,  and  a  humming- 
top  in  process  of  being  wound  in  his  hands,  and  had  caught 
the  first  glimpse  of  Wriothesley's  wrathful  expression. 

"  Eh  !  "  said  Lulu  pricking  up  her  ears.  She  had,  as  I 
have  said,  a  fatal  talent  for  pursuing  any  subject  that 
interested  her,  to  the  bitter  end. 

"I  was  merely  observing,"  said  Mr.  Kitts,  "that  the 
air  of  that  conservatory  doesn't  seem  to  have  agreed  with 
Lord  Wriothesley." 

"  Nonsense  ! "  declared  Miss  Verulam  flatly.  "  The  air 
in  there  is  as  sweet  as  sugar.  It  smells  of  nothing  but  the 
most  lovely  things." 

"  Which  only  goes  to  prove  an  unpleasant  but  undeniable 
truth,  that  lovely  things  are,  as  a  rule,  bad  for  us.  See  how 
ill  he  looks." 

"  I  don't  believe  it.  I  won't,"  said  Lulu,  struggling  down 
off  his  knee.  "  It  isn't  one  bit  true.  I'll  go  and  ask  him 
myself." 

"Ask  him  what?"  said  Mr.  Kitts  softly;  holding  hei, 
however,  lightly  but  firmly,  as  an  awful  suspicion  crossed 
his  mind. 

"  If  the  air  of  that  nice  conservatory  made  him  ill,  and 
if  it  is  true  that  lovely  things  are  bad  for  him." 

"My  good  child,  you  can't  do  that ! "  exclaimed 
Mr.  Kitts,  holding  her  now  with  a  frenzied  grasp.  "  It 
would  mean  a  moral  earthquake.  Battle,  murder  and 
sudden  death  would  follow  upon  it  Lulu,  be  advised,  be 
warned " 

"  I  won't.  I  don't  care,"  cried  Miss  Verulam  valiantly, 
kicking  hard  now  to  regain  dear  liberty.  She  scented 
battle  in  the  breeze,  and  rose  to  the  occasion.  She  felt 
herself  forcibly  detained,  and  that,  as  all  little  children 
know,  sets  the  blood  a-boiling.  "  Let  me  go  !  Let  me  go ! " 
said  she  indignantly,  and  then  with  the  fatal  instinct  of 


«30  MARVEL. 

childhood,  that  told  her  now  where  her  strength  lay,  "  If 
you  don't  I'll  scream  it  out  loud  to  him." 

"  But  not  if  I  give  you  a  knife.  A  grand  large  knife, 
with  a  corkscrew  and  four  blades.  Sharp ;  will  cut  you ; 
cut  your  friends ;  cut  anything — everything  /  Think  of 
that  knife."  Mr.  Kitts  poured  out  all  this  volubly  in  the 
very  desperation  of  fear. 

"  Eh  ! "  said  Miss  Verulam,  visibly  relenting.  She  had 
ceased  to  struggle ;  she  was  regarding  him  with  a  judicial  eye. 

"Such  a  knife  as  you  never  yet  saw.  A  very  prince 
amongst  knives,"  went  on  the  unfortunate  Kitts,  afraid  to 
draw  breath.  "  Is  it  a  bargain  ?  Will  that  knife  purchase 
your  silence  ?  " 

"Will  you  give  me  that  one — the  one  with  the  four 
blades  ?  " 

"  Certainly.  I'll  swear  it,  madam,  an'  you  will.  But  you 
must  promise  me  in  turn  that  you  will  not  say  a  word  of 
what  I  said  just  now  about  the  conservatory  to  Lord 
Wriothesley  or  to  Lady  Wriothesley  either,  specially  to  Lady 
Wriothesley.  You  promise  ?  " 

"  Yes,  to  be  sure,"  said  she  with  fine  contempt.  "  Why, 
what  a  fuss  about  nothing.  And  now  where's  the  knife  ?  " 

"You  shall  have  it.  I'll  write  to  town  for  it  in  the 
morning.  It  will  be  a  most  appropriate  Christmas  present," 
said  Mr.  Kitts,  with  a  poor  attempt  at  jocularity.  "  I  only 
hope  it  will  be  half  as  sharp  as  you  are,  and  it  will  be  a 
knife  beyond  price." 

"That  was  a  near  shave  !"  he  gasped  to  himself  presently 
as  he  mopped  his  heated  brow. 


CHAPTER  XXXVIII. 

"  My  life  is  a  fault  at  last,  I  fear — 

It  seems  too  much  like  a  fate,  indeed  ! 
Though  I  do  my  best  I  shall  scarce  succeed, 
But  what  if  I  fail  of  my  purpose  here  ? " 

"  THAT  fellow  is  in  love  with  her ! "  said  Wriothesley  sud- 
denly.     He  faced  Mrs.  Verulam  as  he  spoke,  and  looked 


MARVEL.  231 

at  her  with  a  frowning  brow,  as  though  daring  her  to  deny 
it.  He  had  made  his  way,  the  morning  after  the  idealized 
Dorcas  meeting,  to  the  pretty  private  room  always  set  apart 
for  Cicely  on  her  visits  to  her  sister-in-law,  and  now  stood 
glowering  at  her  from  the  admirable  elevation  of  six  foot 
one.  Glowering,  however,  had  never  very  much  effect  on 
Mrs.  Verulam,  and  to-day,  as  administered  by  Wriothesley, 
it  gave  her  only  a  meek  joy. 

"  What  fellow  ?  "  she  asked,  wrinkling  her  pretty  brows 
as  if  in  perplexity. 

"  You  know  :   Savage." 

"  Oh  ! "  long  drawn  out.     "  That  of  course." 

"  Why  of  course,"  hotly. 

"  Because  she  is  so  charming,"  coldly.  "  If  you  go  into 
it  I  could  name  you  at  least  three  or  four  others  who  would 
be  only  too  happy  to  lay  themselves  and  their  very  con- 
siderable fortunes  at  her  feet  to-morrow." 

"  You  talk  of  her  as  though  she  were  an  unmarried  girl." 

"  That  is  how  they  talk  of  her  too.  You  see  she  was  so 
little  married  !  She  was  en  evidence  if  you  like,  but — where 
were  you  ?  " 

"  I  was  in  South  America,"  stiffly,  giving  a  direct  answer, 
as  if  to  show  he  scorned  apology. 

"  Quite  so,"  said  she  cheerfully.  "  And  they  knew  it, 
most  of  them.  They  quite  clung  to  that  knowledge.  Your 
coming  home  was  a  terrible  blow,  as  unexpected  as  it  was 
undesired." 

"  By  her  ?  " 

"  We  are  talking  of  those  foolish  people  who  have  lost 
their  hearts  to  her,  if,  indeed,  men  have  hearts,"  said  she 
with  a  little  shrug.  "  I  assure  you,  your  return  was  a 
distinct  betise ;  you  should  have  surrendered  yourself  to  a 
grizzly  over  there,  wherever  you  were,  in  that  delightfully 
enthralling  place  that  kept  you  from  her  for  nearly  two 
years." 

"  You  think,  then,  that  I  am  in  her  way  ?  " 

"  I  think  there  are  men  who  would  treat  her  better  than 
you  have  done." 

"  You  are,  at  all  events,  very  plain  spoken.  A  charm,  no 
doubt,  but  an  unpalatable  one.  I  do  not  quarrel  with  you 


33*  MAEVEI* 

about  that,  however,  it  would  be  useless,  as  I  can  see  your 
sympathies  are  enlisted  on — my  wife's — side." 

"  Your  what  ?  Oh  !  Marvel !  Positively,  one  is  so  un- 
accustomed to  think  of  her  as  a  woman  with  a  husband, 
that  I  hardly  understood." 

"  You  have  grown  bitter,  Cicely.  A  gain  on  which  I  can 
scarcely  congratulate  you.  Of  course,  as  I  have  said,  you 
have  adopted  Marvel's  cause,  and  I  cannot  hope  for  a  fair 
hearing  from  you.  You  believe  me  altogether  to  blame  in 
this  matter  that  lies — that  at  least  should  lie — between  her 
and  me  alone.  Yet  you  should  remember,  in  all  common 
honesty,  that  it  was  she  who  first  tired  of  me." 

"Nonsense.  I  suppose  you  didn't  imagine  she  was 
going  to  stay  with  you,  to  watch  you,  day  after  day,  moping, 
and  sulking,  and  regretting  another  woman  every  hour  of 
the  day.  Allow  her  some  little  spirit !  " 

"She  is  hardly  deficient  in  that  line,  I  think,"  said  he 
with  a  sneer  that  enraged  her  champion. 

"  She  is  the  gentlest  creature  alive,  and  the  most  lov- 
able. If  you  cannot  see  that,  I  pity  you ;  but  her,  more. 
What  would  you  have  ?  An  angel  ?  She  is  almost  that,  I 
believe.  Would  any  one  but  her  have  received  you  with 
the  exquisite  forgiveness  that  she  showed  ?  " 

"  Forgiveness  !  Why,  she  has  treated  me  ever  since  as 
though  I  were  the  dust  beneath  her  feet.  Call  that  for- 
giveness ! " 

"  You  are  not  able  to  appreciate  her,  because  she  is  too 
good  for  you.  I  would  have  you  take  care,  however — other 
people  can  I "  She  grew  quite  terrible  in  her  denunciation 
of  him,  and  in  this  hint,  that  drove  him  to  deeper  anger 
than  he  already  felt. 

"  To  talk  like  that,"  he  said,  "  is  a  simple  thing ;  any  one 
could  do  it.  But  there  is  always  the  other  side  to  be  con- 
sidered. And  I — have  /  nothing  to  forgive  ?  " 

"  Nothing  that  I  know  of.  I  wonder  you  can  even 
pretend  to  it ! "  said  she  scornfully.  She  turned  more 
directly  towards  him  and  lifted  indignant  eyes  to  his. 
"You  ought  to  be  ashamed  of  yourself,"  she  said.  "I 
really  do  think  you  might  give  up  that  old  flirtation  now" 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  that  ?  "  asked  he  quickly. 


MARVEL.  133 

"  As  you  remarked  a  moment  since,  I  am  plain  spoken. 
What  I  mean  then  is,  your  most  ill-advised  flirtation  with 
Mrs.  Scarlett." 

"  Pshaw  ! "  said  he.  "  I  thought  you  clever  enough  to 
see  that  that  old  affair  is  over  and  done  with.  If  once  I 
did  love  her,  I  have  lived  to  wonder  at  it !  " 

"  Denial  is  a  simple  thing.  Words  are  no  doubt  in- 
valuable, but  deeds  are  beyond  them.  If  you  wish  me 
to  believe  what  you  have  just  said  you  should  act  up  to 
yours." 

"  Why,  what  do  you  want,  then  ?  Am  I  to  swear  it 
publicly  that  I  have  got  rid  of  that  ancient  infatuation  ?  " 

"  Never  lose  your  temper ! "  said  Mrs.  Verulam  mildly. 
"  It  gains  one  nothing,  and  so  is  valueless.  '  Deeds  not 
words '  is  a  good  old  motto  belonging  to  some  one  or 
other  ;  I  would  have  you  bear  it  in  mind.  If  you  wish  me 
to  believe  you  in  this  matter  of  Mrs.  Scarlett,  tell  me  why 
you  devoted  yourself  to  her  all  last  evening  in  the  con- 
servatory, withdrawing  yourself  from  all  the  others,  and 
making  yourself  as  conspicuous  with  her  as  you  very  well 
could." 

"  There  were  certain  things  that  had  be  to  said  to  her, 
and  it  was  as  well  I  should  say  them  at  once.  I  wished 
her  to  understand." 

"Well,  I  hope  you  obtained  your  wish,"  said  Cicely 
drily,  "and  that  it  will  not  be  necessary  to  make  her 
'  understand '  again." 

"I  hope  not  also.  But  at  all  events,"  gloomily,  "she 
made  me  understand." 

"Did  she?  She  is  certainly  capable  of  a  good  deal," 
said  Mrs.  Verulam,  regarding  him  keenly.  "  Did  she  tell 
you  that  Marvel  was  in  love  with  Nigel  Savage  ?  " 

"  I  did  not  require  her  assistance  to  learn  that.  As  I 
came  out  of  the  conservatory  I  saw  her  with — him — 
Savage  !  If  she  hates  me,  as  she  does,"  said  he  vehemently, 
"and  if  she  tells  him  so,  I  think  she  might  have  the 
decency  to  do  it  in  private !  Her  look — the  dejection 
that  marked  her  face  !  Shall  I  ever  forget  it ! " 

"I  hope  you  won't,"  said  Mrs.  Verulam  wrathfully.  "I 
hope  it  will  haunt  you,  for  it  is  all  your  doing.  You  can 


»34  MAJIVEL. 

traduce  that  sweet  girl — that  child,  as  you  will,  but  all  your 
foolish  disbelief,  and  all  that  woman's  villainy,  will  not  be 
able  to  lay  her  beautiful  head  in  the  dust.  Oh,  Fulke ! 
That  you  should  be  so  blinded  to  all  that  is  good  and 
true !  " 

"  You  condemn  me  without  a  hearing.  You  accuse  me 
of  being  unfair  to  Marvel,  and  of  being  unduly  civil  to 
Mrs.  Scarlett ;  but  as  I  tell  you  there  were  certain  things 
that  should  be  said  to  the  latter." 

"And  how  to  the  former?  I  don't  see  why  anything 
should  be  said  to  Mrs.  Scarlett;  though  I  think  there  is  a 
great  deal  that  should  be  said  to  Marvel.  You  can  fling 
away  your  own  chances  of  happiness,  of  course,  as  recklessly 
as  you  will,  but  in  the  dead  flatness  that  will  follow  on  it, 
remember  how  I  warned  you." 

"  Those  chances  are  no  longer  mine,"  said  he  gloomily  ; 
so  gloomily  that  she  believed  his  thoughts  ran  on  the 
woman  he  had  loved  two  years  ago. 

"  So  much  the  better  for  you,"  said  she. 

"  You  acknowledge  that  it  is  so,  then  ?  " 

"  I  am  certainly  not  going  to  discuss  it  with  you,"  said 
she  indignantly.  "What  I  alone  desire  to  impress  upon 
you  is,  that  Marvel  noticed  your  devotion  to  Mrs.  Scarlett 
last  night,  and  was  both  annoyed  and  offended  by  it 
Very  naturally." 

"  Pshaw  ! "  said  he  contemptuously.  "  I  don't  believe 
she  would  care  if  I  devoted  myself  to  Mrs.  Scarlett  all  day 
long.  She  treats  me  with  absolute  indifference." 

"Pity  she  doesn't  bow  down  to  you  and  solicit  your 
love ! "  said  Mrs.  Verulam  hotly,  who  was  now  in  fine 
scolding  order,  and  prepared  to  say  a  great  many  things 
that  she  called  "wholesome  truths,"  but  which  certainly 
would  have  disagreed  terribly  with  Wriothesley. 

Providence,  however,  in  the  solid  shape  of  Lady  Lucy, 
entered  the  room,  and  put  an  end  to  Wriotheslev's  mauvais 
quart  d'heurc. 


MARVEL.  835 


CHAPTER  XXXIX. 

"And  my  eyes  hold  her  !   What  is  worth 
The  rest  of  heaven,  the  rest  of  earth  ?  " 

"WHY  not  send  back  the  carriages,  and  let  us  all  walk 
home  through  the  woods  ?  "  said  Savage  with  some  anima- 
tion, addressing  Mrs.  Dameron.  "  I  should  think  we've 
got  all  the  birds  we  are  likely  to  get  to-day." 

"  Yes ;  cover's  used  up,"  said  Lord  Verulam  in  his  lazy 
way.  He  was  a  man  who  very  seldom  spoke  :  a  trick,  as  you 
will  notice,  acquired  by  men  who  have  very  talkative  wives. 

The  snow  that  fell  last  week  was  now  almost  forgotten. 
It  ceased  as  suddenly  as  it  began ;  sharp  rains  followed 
upon  it ;  and  they  in  turn  gave  place  to  a  severe  but  whole- 
some frost  that  had  left  the  ground  as  hard  as  iron.  All 
the  men  of  the  party  had  been  out  since  dawn  shooting  one 
of  the  home  covers,  and  at  two  o'clock  had  been  joined  by 
the  gentler  members,  who  had  driven  to  a  keeper's  lodge 
armed  with  numerous  baskets  and  hampers,  wherewith  to 
allay  the  pangs  of  hunger  of  the  mighty  hunters. 

Luncheon  was  over  now,  and  indeed  the  day  was  de- 
clining. The  footmen  were  going  about  putting  up  the 
plates  and  dishes,  and  the  keeper's  wife  was  carrying  off 
the  fragments  that  remained  for  the  delectation  of  her 
numerous  offspring,  who  were  huddled  out  of  sight  in 
some  of  the  other  rooms.  The  luncheon  party  had  long 
ago  emerged  into  the  sombre  twilight  that  awaited  them 
outside,  and  were  looking  with  evident  half-heartedness  at 
their  guns. 

"  Charming  evening  for  a  walk,"  said  Mr.  Kitts  brighten- 
ing visibly  under  Savage's  suggestion.  "  Lady  Lucy,  head 
our  list  of  patrons,  and  our  procession  too,  through  the 
melancholy  twilight  of  the  lonely  wood." 

"  /  can't,"  said  she  laughing.  "  I  have  got  these  chicks 
to  see  to,"  pointing  to  a  couple  of  her  smaller  fry  who  were 
fighting  valiantly  in  the  background.  "  But  if  the  others 

wish  to Cicely,  what  of  you?  How  goes  your  vote 

— a  drive  home  or  a  walk  ?  " 


236  MARVEL. 

"  A  walk  by  all  means,"  said  Mrs.  Verulam,  "  it  is  barely 
half-past  three,  and  it  is  troubling  me  how  to  kill  time  till 
tea  is  due." 

"  You  can  have  it  now,"  said  Lord  Verulam.  "  Mrs. 
Machell  (the  keeper's  wife)  will  get  it  ready  for  you  in  no 
time." 

"  No,  thanks,  no ;  no  senna  for  me,"  said  Mrs.  Verulam. 
"  But  a  walk  in  the  gloaming,  by  all  means.  It  is  only  a 
three-mile  trot  from  this  to  Verulam,  I  think  ?  "  She  looked 
round  for  confirmation  of -her  words  to  Savage,  who  stood 
near. 

"  Hopeless  looking  to  me,"  he  said,  shaking  his  head,  "  I 
don't  know  the  ropes  round  here.  Ask  Kitts,  he  is  a 
perfect  encyclopaedia  of  learning." 

"  Three  miles  and  a  half  as  the  crow  flies,  and  if  you 
follow  me,"  he  said.  "About  ten,  if  you  follow  your  own 
vagaries  O  !  and  take  an  unguarded  turn  to  your  left  or 
right." 

"  I'll  follow  you,"  said  Mrs.  Verulam  with  decision. 

"  So  will  I,"  said  Sir  George ;  "  in  your  company,  if  I 
may  ;  "  this  in  a  lower  tone  to  Cicely. 

They  all  paired  off  presently,  except  unfortunately,  Mar- 
vel, who  had  stayed  to  say  a  word  or  two  to  Lady  Lucy 
and  help  the  children  into  the  carriage,  the  youngest  of 
whom  had  conceived  a  violent  fancy  for  her,  and  could 
only  be  induced  to  enter  the  waiting  landau  through  a  mis- 
taken and  carefully  fostered  idea  that  she  was  to  enter  it 
with  him.  When  this  latest  of  her  devoted  adherents  was 
safely  locked  up  she  turned  to  find  all  the  others  of  the 
party  had  already  started  and  were  quite  a  long  way  ahead, 
and  that  Nigel  Savage  alone  remained  to  accompany  her. 
She  flushed  vividly,  and  Savage  at  once  came  to  the  con- 
clusion that  she  was  annoyed  at  being  thus  irremediably 
thrown  upon  his  hands.  He  was  wrong,  however.  She 
gave  him  no  thought,  all  her  girlish  jealous  heart  being 
oppressed  with  the  fear  that  Wriothesley  was  with  Mrs. 
Scarlett.  She  caught  Savage's  eye  and  smiled  kindly  at 
him. 

"  We  shall  have  to  run,"  she  said,  pointing  to  the  group 
just  disappearing  round  the  corner  in  the  distance,  "  if 


MAEVEL.  137 

we  mean  to  catch  them  up.  If  we  don't  we  shall  probably 
lose  ourselves  like  the  babes  in  the  wood,  as  neither  of  us 
know  much  about  the  country  here." 

"  We  are  too  near  home  to  get  very  much  lost,"  said  he, 
"  and  as  long  as  they  give  us  a  lead,  even  at  so  great  a  dis- 
tance, we  shall,  at  all  events,  be  sure  to  come  in  at  last,  if 
only  as  a  bad  third." 

When  they  reached  the  corner,  however,  there  was  no 
sign  of  the  others.  Two  paths  lay  before  them,  one  run- 
ning a  little  to  the  left,  where  Verulam  ought  to  lie,  and  in 
both  there  was  a  sharp  bend  a  good  deal  farther  on,  that 
would  hide  the  advance  party  if  they  had  gained  it.  Savage 
stood  still  and  looked  perplexed. 

"  Rapid  people  ! "  he  said  at  last,  with  a  rather  amused 
laugh.  "  I  think  they  might  at  least  have  given  us  a  passing 
thought." 

"  I  wish  I  had  not  delayed  so  long,"  said  Marvel,  "  but 
Lady  Lucy  is  such  a  chatterbox,  and  little  Leslie  so  terribly 
exigeant.  After  all,"  laughing,  "  there  are  certain  drawbacks 
about  having  so  hopelessly  devoted  a  lover." 

Savage  looked  suddenly  into  her  clear  eyes.  The  words 
were  tinged  by  coquetry,  and  would  have  meant  a  challenge 
from  another  woman,  but  Marvel's  soft  laugh  and  uncon- 
scious gaze  acquitted  her  of  any  arrilre  pensee. 

"  This  must  be  the  path,"  she  said,  pointing  to  the  left, 
"  I  am  sure  Verulam  lies  over  there." 

"  We  may  as  well  take  it,  at  all  events,  until  we  meet  a 
rustic  to  set  us  right,"  said  Savage,  and  they  walked  briskly 
through  the  bare  deserted  wood,  the  dry  and  frozen  leaves 
crackling  beneath  their  feet  as  they  went.  The  short  brown 
grasses  and  yellowing  moss  that  edged  each  side  of  the 
pathway  were  tipped  with  frost  and  sparkled  coldly  in  the 
dying  light.  Some  rooks  were  cawing  in  a  half-hearted 
fashion  above  their  heads  amongst  the  leafless  boughs  of 
the  elms ;  and  far  away  in  the  distance  could  be  heard  the 
loud  angry  roar  of  a  cascade  as  it  dashed  down  the  sides  of 
the  granite  rocks. 

It  was  a  cold  sharp  evening,  but  dry  and  crisp,  and  the 
quick  pace  at  which  they  moved  set  Marvel's  blood  aglow. 
A  warm  flush  sprang  into  her  cheeks,  her  eyes  gleamed ; 


238  MAEVEL. 

she  looked  the  very  essence  of  youth  and  health  and  beauty 
as  she  walked  beside  him,  straight  and  upright  as  a  young 
ash  sapling.  "White  as  a  white  rose,"  with  soft  sweet 
mouth  and  earnest  eyes,  and  pretty  ruffled  hair  blowing  about 
the  broad  pure  brow.  The  dark  rich  furs  she  wore,  and 
dainty  laces,  enhanced  the  clear  beauty  of  her  perfect  skin, 
and  the  little  fur  cap  she  wore  sat  closely  to  her  small  head. 
She  looked  indeed  specially  lovely  on  this  dull  wintry  even- 
ing (in  spite  of  the  faintly  troubled  expression  that  always 
now  lay  in  her  eyes),  and  contrasted  brilliantly  with  the 
general  air  of  greyness  that  pervaded  everything. 

Savage  walked  beside  her  silently.  He  was  very  well 
content  to  be  with  her,  though  she  never  broke  the  silence, 
content  to  see  her,  to  feel  her  near.  Yet  sometimes  he 
wondered  how  it  would  all  end.  Was  she  to  live  her  life 
unloved,  unloving ;  chained  to  a  man  who  did  not  value 
her,  who  had  spent  his  first  best  passion  on  a  woman  as 
false,  as  worthless  as  any  of  the  modern  Delilahs  he  had 
ever  met.  It  seemed  to  him  that  there  was  cruelty  in  such 
a  decision.  How  long  would  she  rest  contented  with  a 
life  so  empty  ?  Oh,  that  he  had  met  her  two  years  ago, 
with  a  clear  chance  before  him  !  He  felt  that  the  very 
strength  of  the  love  he  bore  her  would  have  compelled  her 
love  in  return  ! 

Even  now,  seeing  her  so  forlorn,  so  neglected,  a  passion- 
ate longing  to  declare  that  love  was  always  pressing  upon 
him.  If  she  knew,  would  she  care — would  she  turn  to  him  ? 
There  was  a  terrible  temptation  in  the  doubt  that  surrounded 
the  answer  to  this  question.  He  believed  her  heart  un- 
touched. He  desired  beyond  all  other  good  to  awaken  it 
to  thoughts  of  him  !  and  yet  he  dared  not.  Passion  was 
unknown  to  her.  What  then,  if  she  shrank  from  him  in 
fear  and  loathing  !  He  told  himself  that  he  could  not  sur- 
vive that ;  better  this  calm,  exquisite,  unsatisfying  friendship, 
than  eternal  banishment  from  all  the  earth  held  dear  for 
him. 

No ;  she  would  not  understand.  She  was  not  as  those 
other  women  of  his  world,  women  who  would,  perhaps,  have 
held  him  at  arm's  length  too,  but  would  not  have  rated  his 
sin  as  a  very  unpardonable  offence.  With  her,  he  knew  it 


MAKVEL.  239 

would  mean  banishment.  He  glanced  at  her  pure  soft 
profile  in  the  growing  dusk,  and  read  his  fate  there. 

"  Thou  whose  peerless 

Eyes  are  tearless, 
And  thy  thoughts  as  cold  sweet  lilies." 

No,  she  would  not  understand.  Thick  and  fast  the  shadows 
grew,  and  there  before  them,looming  in  their  path,  rose,  all  on 
a  sudden  as  it  were,  a  tall  old  tower,  ivy-covered,  moss-grown, 
picturesque  as  a  mediaeval  dream.  The  grey  mists  of  the 
coming  night  seemed  already  to  have  caught  it,  and  bathed 
its  ancient  walls  in  a  tremulous  haze  that  gave  it  a  touch  of 
weird  and  rather  unreal  beauty. 

"  How  lovely,"  said  Marvel.  "  How  is  it  we  have  not 
seen  it  before  ?  Was  there  ever  so  quaint  an  old  tower  ! 
I  wonder  if  we  could  get  into  it.  Oh,  do  let  us  try?  See,  it 
is  quite  close  to  us,  it  won't  take  us  more  than  a  yard  or  two 
out  of  our  way." 

"  It  is  growing  late,"  said  he,  with  stern  virtue.  It  flashed 
across  his  mind  that  this  divergence  from  his  duty  and  his 
path  would  be  both  desirable  and  pleasant,  considering  it 
would  give  him  so  much  more  of  her  undivided  society,  but 
he  suppressed  the  thought  with  a  determination  that  did 
him  credit. 

"  It  isn't  late,  really  !  It  is  only  because  it  is  December," 
said  she,  still  bent  on  exploring  the  old  ruin  that  had  taken 
her  fancy.  "  Come,  let  us  just  look  into  it.  We  can  make 
up  for  the  delay  by  a  good  run  afterwards,  that  will  warm 
us." 

Thus  tempted,  he  fell. 

"  So  we  can,"  said  he,  with  very  suspicious  alacrity, 
taking  into  account  his  hesitation  of  a  moment  since.  After 
all  it  would  only  take  them  a  minute  or  two  to  look  into 

the  mouldy  old  place,  and  if  it  pleased  her .  They  ran 

across  the  grass  and  presently  found  themselves  opposite  a 
worm-eaten  old  door,  studded  with  huge  iron  nails,  and  with 
a  rusty  key  in  the  lock.  After  using  considerable  force  this 
key  was  induced  to  turn.  The  door  opened  with  astonish- 
ing suddenness  as  if  loose  on  its  hinges,  and  they  stepped 


«4o  MARVLL. 

inside  into  a  dark  passage  that  smelled  of  mouldering 
leaves  and  the  dust  of  a  century  gone  by. 

It  was  very  dark.  No  light  came  from  any  ground-floor 
windows,  for  the  simple  reason  that  there  were  none,  but  a 
faint  ray  or  two  stole  down  the  circular  staircase  that  led  to 
a  chamber  above  lit  by  some  long  narrow  openings  in  the 
walls  barely  wide  enough  to  let  a  man's  body  slip  sideways 
through  them. 

"  Isn't  it  funny  !  "  said  Marvel,  who  was  plainly  delighted 
with  it :  "I  wonder  what  is  upstairs  ?  "  She  ran  lightly  up 
the  worn  stone  steps  and  stood  at  the  top,  looking  round 
her  in  the  uncertain  light.  It  was  a  semi- circular  apart- 
ment, with  a  stone  floor  and  a  huge  wide  fireplace  facing  the 
stairs.  It  was  a  small  hall  rather  than  a  room,  as  there  was 
no  door  to  it,  and  only  a  broken  rudely  formed  stone 
parapet  ran  from  the  top  of  the  stairs  to  the  wall  behind, 
to  prevent  the  unwary  from  falling  over  into  the  abyss 
beneath. 

"  One  feels  as  though  one  had  just  stepped  into  another 
age,"  said  Marvel,  looking  eagerly  round  her. 

"A  dark  one,"  said  Savage. 

"  What  a  shame  to  take  no  notice  of  so  interesting  a 
place.  A  very  little  thought  and  trouble  would  transform 
it  into  something  quite  unique ;  an  oak  chair  there,  a  table 
here,  a  roaring  fire,  a " 

"A  few  window  panes,"  suggested  Savage. 

"  Tut,  you  are  too  prosaic  !  Well,  in  the  summer,  then, 
could  you  fancy  a  cooler,  a  more  calm  retreat  ?  Not  a  fly 
to  aggravate  one,  not  a  sound  to  disturb " 

At  this  moment  there  came  a  sound  from  below  loud 
enough  to  awaken  the  Seven  Sleepers.  It  was  a  regular 
bang  that  seemed  to  shake  the  tower  to  its  foundations 
and  made  both  its  occupants  start. 

"  So  much  for  your  calm  retreat,"  said  Savage  with  a 
rather  nervous  laugh.  He  had  good  reason  to  feel  nervous. 


MAEVEL.  341 


CHAPTER  XL, 

•Worth  how  well  those  dark  grey  eyes, 
That  hair  so  dark  and  dear,  how  worth 

That  a  man  should  strive  and  agonize. 
And  taste  a  very  hell  on  earth 

For  the  hope  of  such  a  prize  ! " 

"  WHAT  was  that  ?  "  exclaimed  Marvel. 

"  Sounded  like  a  door,  didn't  it  ?  "  said  he  with  a  carefully 
careless  air. 

"  Why,  that's  what  it  was,"  cried  she  laughing.  "  How 
stupid  of  me  not  to  guess  it  at  once.  That  solid  old  piece 
of  oak  downstairs  was  just  the  sort  of  thing  to  shut  to,  with 
a  noise  like  a  thunder-clap." 

"  I'll  run  down  and  see  if  I  was  right  in  my  conjecture," 
said  he,  suiting  the  action  to  the  word.  When  he  got 
below  he  found  his  worst  fears  confirmed.  The  heavy  old 
door  had  swung  back,  obedient  to  some  gust  of  wind,  and, 
shutting  with  considerable  force,  had  shot  the  lock  into  its 
place.  The  key  was  on  the  outside,  and  there  was  there- 
fore no  earthly  means  of  getting  out  of  this  unlucky  tower, 
unless  by  chance  some  passer-by  might  come  this  way. 

And  what  a  chance  was  that !  Savage  felt  the  blood 
mount  to  his  brow  in  the  dark  passage.  He  noted  how 
the  dying  day  was  already  dead,  and  that  the  coming 
darkness  was  even  now  beginning  to  cover  all  the  land. 
Good  heavens  !  what  was  to  be  done  ? 

"  Well !  "  cried  the  sweet  clear  voice  above  ;  "  are  you 
going  to  spend  the  rest  of  our  short  time  below  there  ?  See, 
here  is  such  a  cupboard." 

He  mounted  the  steps  very  slowly.  He  knew  he  was 
afraid  to  tell  her,  yet  it  had  to  be  done. 

"  Such  a  delicious  little  hiding-hole,"  cried  she,  standing 
near  the  tiny  recess  she  had  discovered  in  the  wall.  "  Just 
large  enough  to  hold  a  few  choice  cups  and  saucers, 

and Oh,  by-the-by,  talking  of  cups,  I  expect  we 

shall  lose  our  tea  if  we  don't  make  haste.  Come — let  us 
go." 

"Well,  that's  just  it,"  said  he  slowly,  his  eyes  on  the 


242  MAEVEL. 

ground,  his  manner  really  wonderfully  unconcerned  ;  "  the 
fact  is — we  can't ! " 

"  What ! " 

"  That  solid  old  oak  door  you  admired  so  much  a  few 
minutes  ago  has  played  us  a  rather  unkind  trick.  It  has 
shut  itself  up  so  tight  that,  like  Sterne's  starling,  we  can't  get 
out." 

He  spoke  calmly,  yet  with  secret  trepidation,  not  knowing 
how  she  would  take  it.  He  was  a  good  deal  surprised 
when  he  did  know.  She  sat  down  on  one  of  the  stone 
benches  that  were  built  into  the  walls  and  laughed. 

"  How  absurd  ! "  she  said.  "  Do  you  mean  that  we  are 
prisoners  ?  " 

"  It  really  amounts  to  that,"  said  he  gravely,  a  little  of? 
his  guard  because  of  his  astonishment  at  her  evident  un- 
concern. She  noticed  the  gravity  at  once,  and  her  laughter 
forsook  her.  Still,  for  all  that,  one  could  see  that  she  did 
not  entirely  realize  the  exact  meaning  of  the  situation. 

"  Oh,  it  can't  be  true ;  "  she  said  hastily.  "  There  must 
be  some  way  of  inducing  it  to  open.  A  sudden  shake  may 
do  it.  Did  you  try  ?  " 

"I  did — with  all  my  might,  but  nothing  came  of  it." 
He.  was  now  disheartened  by  her  sudden  change  of  manner. 
How  was  he  to  allay  the  fears  that  each  passing  five 
minutes  was  sure  to  bring  ?  "  After  all,  it  is  of  no  real  con- 
sequence," he  said  ;  "  it  is  early  yet,  and  somebody  going 
through  the  wood  will  let  us  out  in  time  to  scamper  home 
for  tea.  You  are  one  of  the  few  people  who  can  run,  I 
know." 

"  Well,  I  hope  your  somebody  will  come  soon,"  said  she 
after  a  very  slight  pause.  There  was  so  evident  an  effort  to 
treat  the  matter  lightly  that  his  heart  died  within  him. 
He  knew  that  already  she  was  afraid  ! 

A  shrill  wind  was  rising.  Now,  in  its  babyhood,  it 
merely  sighed  amongst  the  trees,  but  gave  brave  promise  of 
a  strength  in  age.  Savage,  leaning  against  the  wall  near 
one  of  the  openings,  looked  out  gloomily  into  the  growing 
night  and  tried  in  vain  to  think  of  something  light,  casual, 
to  say,  that  would  persuade  her  he  at  least  was  under  no 
apprehension. 


MARVEL.  243 

"  I  am  glad  we  are  in  so  public  a  part  of  the  grounds,"  he 
said  at  last ;  "  it  would  have  been  a  little  awkward  if  we  had 
been  shut  up  in  a  more  isolated  spot." 

"  Oh,  yes,"  said  she  so  cheerfully  that  his  spirits  rose  ; 
"  I  was  just  now  thinking  about  that.  Some  one  is  sure  to 
come — now — at  any  moment." 

Yet  many  moments  went  by  and  no  one  came.  No 
sound  broke  upon  their  ear  save  the  hoarse  croaking  of  the 
rooks  as  they  quarrelled  with  the  empty  branches  now 
swaying  wildly  to  and  fro  in  the  angry  vehemence  of  the 
growing  storm. 

"  What  o'clock  is  it  now  ?  "  asked  she  after  a  pause,  that 
to  him  had  seemed  an  eternity,  yet  he  could  not  have 
broken  it.  He  knew,  if  she  did  not,  the  danger  of  the 
gossip  that  already  attached  his  name  to  hers,  and  he  loved 
her  too  well  and  too  sincerely  not  to  dread  the  first  edge 
to  it  that  this  unfortunate  imprisonment  would  give. 

"  I  can  hardly  see,"  he  said  taking  out  his  watch  and 
pretending  to  examine  it  by  a  light  now  almost  gone  ;  "  but 
— about  half-past  four  I  make  it.  Quite  early  yet,  as  I 
have  said." 

"  It  is  five,"  said  she  very  gently.  She  too  had  a  watch 
and  was  looking  at  it,  as  he  found  to  his  dismay.  "  Oh ! 
Nigel,  do  you  think  it  will  be  very  much  longer  before  any 
one  comes  ?  " 

"  Why,  any  second  may  bring  some  one,"  said  he  brightly, 
stretching  his  head  out  of  the  opening  beside  him  as  if  it 
was  quite  a  sure  thing  that  peasants  would  be  walking 
about  the  wood  in  the  cold  chill  evening,  and  that  he  might 
as  well  therefore  be  on  the  look-out  to  hail  them. 

He  was  glad  to  be  able  Jo  thrust  out  his  head  somewhere 
that  would  prevent  her  reading  his  face,  even  in  this  de- 
clining light.  A  sickening  certainty  that  no  one  will  come 
is  rendering  him  so  miserable,  that  he  hardly  dares  to  glance 
in  the  direction  where  she  sits  so  curiously  quiet.  What 
terrible  fate  threw  them  into  this  fatal  situation  ! 

He  looked  far  and  wide,  but  saw  nothing  save  the  endless 
masses  of  trees.  After  awhile  he  drew  himself  in,  and  sank 
upon  the  stone  bench  near  him.  He  waited  breathlessly 
for  her  to  ask  him  if  he  had  seen  anything,  but  when  the 

1 6 — 2 


244  MAKVEL. 

minutes  passed  and  she  still  kept  silence  he  was  unspeak 
ably  thankful. 

The  storm  had  come  at  last,  and  now  a  great  wind  rose 
and  shook  the  pines.  Like  thunder  it  rolled  amongst  the 
hills,  and  swept  with  an  eager  fury  round  the  old  tower 
wherein  they  sat,  speechless,  expectant.  Faint  flashes  of 
light  glanced  through  the  darkling  woods  and  stone  bay 
now  and  then  with  a  lurid  brilliance  upon  the  projecting 
masonry  of  one  of  the  walls.  All  nature  seemed  alive  ;  the 
sea  itself  was  stirred.  Moans  heavy  and  sorrow-laden  came 
from  it  and  rushed  inland,  as  it  darted  itself  with  each 
wild,  incoming  wave  against  the  adamantine  breasts  of  the 
eternal  rocks. 

Minute  followed  upon  minute,  until  all  the  weary  mass 
of  them  grew  into  an  hour.  Twice  Marvel  had  spoken  to 
him  with  a  would-be  hopeful  tone,  but  with  a  cruel  trembling 
of  the  beloved  voice  that  drove  him  almost  mad.  The 
awful  thought  that  no  one  would  ever  come  or  come  too 
late  began  to  render  him  wretched.  What  if  they  should  be 
left  here — alone,  until  the  morning  dawned  ! 

He  sprang  to  his  feet  and  began  to  walk  feverishly  up 
and  down. 

The  open  agitation  he  thus  betrayed  communicated  itself 
to  her.  She  roused  herself  from  the  lethargy  into  which 
she  had  apparently  fallen,  and  in  her  turn  rose  to  her  feet. 

"  Nigel,"  she  said  in  a  piercing  voice,  "  where  are  you,  I 
can't  see  you."  She  held  out  her  hands  to  him.  "  Oh  ! 
Nigel,  what  is  to  be  done  ?  Dear,  dear  Nigel,  think  of  some- 
thing ! " 

He  went  to  her  and  caught  her  hands. 

"  Above  all  things  don't  give  way,"  he  said.  "  After  all 
what  is  it  but  an  accident ;  a  mere  fiasco,  that  a  word  or  two 
will  set  right.  You  are  trembling,  sit  down  again  and  let 
us  think  what  is  best  to  be  done." 

He  had  no  knowledge  whatever  of  how  to  improve  their 
sorry  plight,  but  he  would  have  said  anything  just  then  to 
soothe  and  comfort  her,  as  he  felt  the  desperate  clinging  of 
her  slender  fingers.  What  would  be  -the  end  of  it  if  no  one 
came? 

An  answer  came  to  that  thought,  swift,  stinging  as  sharply 


MAEVEL.  245 

with  pleasure  as  with  pain.  It  almost  overpowered  him, 
holding  him  enthralled  by  the  seductive  power  of  it.  Thus 
he  might  gain  her !  She  would  be  his,  cast  into  his  arms 
by  a  disbelieving  world,  though  she  stood  innocent  in  word 
and  deed  before  its  tribunal.  He  trembled  as  the  idea 
grew  upon  him,  and  then,  in  a  second  as  it  were,  he 
shrunk  and  cowered  away  from  it.  With  her  fair  name 
sullied ;  her  fair  fame  soiled  !  Would  he  win  her  so  ?  He 
knew  her  too  well,  had  gauged  her  lovely  soul  too  closely, 
not  to  be  sure  that  honour  lost  there  would  follow  a  broken 
heart.  Oh  !  not  at  that  price.  No  ! 

He  had  not  been  a  good  man  perhaps  ;  there  had  been 
passages  in  his  life  that  would  not  bear  looking  into,  and 
upon  which  he  hated  to  look  ever  since  his  eyes  first  fell  on 
Marvel.  But  there  were  germs  of  goodness  in  him  that 
that  first  sight  of  her,  too,  had  brought  to  light,  and  he  cast 
behind  him  now,  in  this  his  hour  of  temptation,  the  evil 
spirit  that  would  have  led  him  to  his  destruction. 

She  sat  down  as  he  had  told  her  to  do,  shrinking  back 
out  of  the  ken  of  his  eyes,  so  that  he  might  not  see  her,  and 
began  to  cry,  silently  but  in  a  deplorable  manner.  No 
matter  how  silently  you  cry  you  are  sure  to  be  found  out 
in  time.  Savage  woke  to  the  fact  that  she  was  in  tears  in 
about  a  minute  and  a  half  and  despair  took  possession  of 
him. 

"  Don't  do  that ! "  he  said  roughly,  but  with  such  a  passion 
of  regret  in  his  voice  that  the  roughness  went  for  nothing. 
"  There  isn't  a  single  thing  to  be  gained  by  it,  and — • — ; 
Marvel — don't  cry  !  I,"  angrily,  "  I  can't  stand  it.  Come,  be 
sensible  and  listen  to  what  I  am  going  to  say." 

She  roused  herself  somewhat,  and  leant  towards  him 
with  an  eager  expectancy  that  touched  him. 

"  If  they  find  you  here  alone,"  he  went  on,  "  nothing  can 
be  said."  He  paused  and  as  she  still  remained  silent,  lie 
believed  she  did  not  understand.  "  By  they,  I  mean  the 
women — Mrs.  Scarlett  and  Co.,"  he  explained.  "Now 
supposing — are  you  listening  ? — suppose  I  were  to  drop  from 
that  opening  there,"  pointing  to  the  slit  in  the  thick  wall 
nearest  to  her,  "  I  might  reach  the  ground  beneath  without 
much  injury  to  life  or  limb;  so  little  injury  indeed  that  1 


246  MAEVEL. 

might  even  be  able  to  get  round  to  the  door  and  open  it 
and  set  you  free ;  and  at  all  events,  even  if  I  failed  in  that 
last  hope,  no  one  could  say  a  word  to  you  if  I  were  out  of 
the  way." 

"  If  you  were  killed,  you  mean  !  I  may  be  a  coward,'* 
said  she  quietly,  "  but  I  am  not  so  altogether  craven  that  I 
would  purchase  my  immunity  from  scandal  with  your  life." 

He  could  not  see  her  dear  face  because  of  the  blackness 
of  the  night  that  now  had  fallen  upon  them  in  its  might, 
but  he  could  guess  at  the  generous  scorn  that  marked  it. 

"  You  !  my  best,  my  truest  friend,"  she  said.  Again  she 
held  out  to  him  her  hands,  and  he  caught  and  clasped  them 
close ;  love  lent  him  sight.  "  Do  you  think  I  shall  ever 
forget  what  you  and  Cicely  have  been  to  me — against  the 
world,  as  it  were !  But  oh,  Nigel !  what  is  to  be  done 
about  this ;  and  you  know  how  she,  Mrs.  Scarlett,  will  talk, 

and "  Once  more  she  broke  down.  "  Oh,  can  you  do 

nothing,  nothing!"  she  cried  feverishly.  "  Think,  think! 
Am  I  to  go  mad  with  fear,  sitting  here  through  all  these 
terrible  hours  ;  and  what  will  the  morning  bring  ?  "  She 
dragged  her  hands  out  of  his  and  began  to  pace  wildly  up 
and  down,  as  it  overcome  by  this  last  awful  thought. 
"  Nothing  but  ruin,"  she  said  at  last,  in  a  tone  that  meant 
only  despair. 

Despair,  too,  was  his.  He  drew  back  a  little  out  of  her 
way,  and  as  he  did  so  his  eyes  fell  upon  his  gun.  He  ran 
to  it,  quickly  loaded  it  and  fired  off,  with  only  a  short  time 
between  each  detonation,  the  two  cartridges  that  remained 
to  him,  through  one  of  the  openings.  It  was  a  last  resource, 
and  he  wished  to  heaven  he  had  thought  of  it  before. 
Better  late,  however,  than  never,  so  he  tried  to  think  ;  but  as 
time  went  on  and  no  answering  shout  came  from  the  woods 
he  began  to  believe  they  were  indeed  forsaken  by  all  things, 
human  and  divine. 

The  storm  still  raged,  but  with  a  milder  fury,  and 
through  a  rent  in  the  clouds  a  dull,  pale  watery  moon 
showed  with  a  gloomy  brilliance.  There  was  still  a  sobbing 
amongst  the  leafless  trees,  as  though  it  rained,  and  though 
the  lightning  indeed  was  dead,  the  whole  earth  seemed  to 
groan  as  if  beneath  a  heavy  load. 


MARVEL.  247 

Marvel's  thoughts  had  flown  to  her  husband  ;  careless  and 
indifferent  as  he  was,  devoted  as  she  believed  him  to  be 
to  another  woman,  she  had  still,  in  the  earlier  moments  of 
her  incarceration,  firmly  believed  in  his  ability,  no  less  than 
his  willingness,  to  come  to  her  rescue.  But  now  she 
believed  in  nothing.  All  hope  had  gone  from  her,  and  she 
waited  in  a  deadly  silence  for  the  passage  of  a  time  that 
should  only  end  with  her  awaking  to  a  knowledge  that  a 
reputation  unsullied  was  no  longer  hers.  Innocent  those 
who  knew  her  best  would  undoubtedly  deem  her;  but 
those  others !  And  to  be  talked  about ;  to  be  glanced  at 
with  the  smile,  half  amused,  half  severe,  that  she  had  seen 
so  often  directed  at  others !  No,  she  could  not  outlive 
that. 

It  was  all  past  bearing  indeed ;  but  the  bitterest  thing 
was,  that  he,  Fulke,  had  not  so  far  troubled  himself  as  to 
come  to  her  succour.  Perhaps  he  hoped  for  a  deliverance 
that  might  arise  out  of  this  luckless  night.  She  grew  cold ;  she 
shivered  as  she  let  this  evil  idea  take  possession  of  her.  How 
earnestly  she  had  prayed  at  one  time  to  have  her  miserable 
marriage  set  aside,  and  yet  now,  when  the  chance  came, 
how  she  shrank  from  it,  how  she  cowered  against  the  ice- 
cold  wall  there  in  the  darkness,  and  pressed  her  hands 
against  her  frozen  face,  and  entreated  with  a  fervour  she 
had  never  yet  known  that  she  might  be  saved  from  this 
horrible  fate  that  seemed  to  hang  over  her. 

She  pictured  them  all  to  herself  sitting  in  the  cosy  fire-lit 
room  drinking  their  tea,  and  wondering  with  prettily  up- 
lifted brows  where  she  and  Nigel  Savage  had  gone  !  She 
could  hear  Mrs.  Scarlett's  low  satirical  little  speech,  could 
see  Cicely's  angry  flush  and  glance  of  embarrassment, 
Cicely,  who  had  always  hinted  that  Nigel  loved  her  with  a 
passion  undue  and  undesirable.  She  could  see,  too,  how 
Fulke  sat  beside  Mrs.  Scarlett  in  the  delicate  flickering 
flames  of  the  fire,  and  whispered  to  her,  and  glanced  into 
her  eyes,  and  so  glancing  forgot  that  she — his  wife  I — was 
here  imprisoned,  desperate,  beyond  all  hope. 

A  hand  touched  hers  in  the  darkness ;  two  lips  were 
pressed  to  it.  She  felt  by  the  intensity  of  the  pressure 
that  it  was  a  farewell,  but  she  seemed  hardly  to  care 


248  MAEVEL. 

enough  for  anything  to  demand  an  explanation.  Through 
the  opening  in  the  wall  near  her  a  ray  of  sullen  moonlight 
entered,  that  enabled  her  to  see  Nigel  walk  across  the  room 
to  the  window  at  the  other  side.  It  was  plain  that  he  had 
at  last  decided  on  dropping  from  the  window.  She  knew 
that  a  lingering  death  would  be  the  result  of  this,  and  rising 
quickly  from  her  seat  she  went  to  him. 

"  You  will  kill  yourself  and  it  will  be  of  no  use,"  she  said. 

"  I  see  no  reason  why  I  should  be  killed,"  said  he  lying. 
"  I  may  break  an  arm,  a  leg,  but  even  if  so " 

"  It  will  do  no  good,  I  tell  you,"  said  she  in  the  same  low, 
calm,  hopeless  tone.  "  They  would  not  believe.  No.  Risk 
nothing  in  so  forlorn  a  cause.  I  was  born  to  misfortune ;  I 
must  fulfil  my  destiny." 

"  Such  talk  is  only  morbid  folly,"  said  he  sharply.  "  You 
should  not  encourage  it.  Unhappy  as  you  may  be  now,  there 
is  always  hope  in  the  future." 

"  In  the  immediate  future  ?  I  think  not,"  said  she  with 
a  calmness  that  betrayed  the  depth  of  her  misery.  "  I  have 
a  presentiment  that  no  one  will  come  to  release  us — that 
no  one  cares  to  come."  Her  voice  quivered.  "  That  is  it," 
she  repeated  mournfully.  "  No  one  cares." 

Almost  as  the  last  word  left  her  lips  a  shout  reached  them — 
a  shout  that  rang  through  the  stormy  wind  without.  As  they 
stood  trembling,  uncertain,  it  came  again,  clear  and  full  of 
vehement  anxiety.  It  sounded  nearer  this  time,  and  nearer 
still  the  next  and  the  next,  as  it  rose  incessantly.  Savage 
answered  it  with  all  his  might,  whilst  Marvel  stood  rigid, 
frightened,  yet  full  of  a  wild  hope. 

Suddenly  it  ceased,  that  glad  sound  from  without,  and 
both  their  hearts  sank  once  more.  Were  they,  when  help 
seemed  so  near,  to  be  again  plunged  in  an  ocean  of  despair. 

"  Oh  !  what  can  have  happened ! "  cried  Marvel  in  terrible 
distress.  Her  answer  to  this  was  a  loud  knocking  on  the 
door  beneath,  and  the  sound  of  a  voice  that  thrilled  through 
every  nerve. 

"  It  is  Fulke,"  said  she  in  a  whisper  that  reached  no  one. 
She  felt  as  though  she  were  going  to  faint,  and  sank  down 
upon  the  stone  seat  near  her. 


MARVE.U  249 


CHAPTER  XLI 

"  Silent  we  went  an  hour  together, 

Under  grey  skies  by  waters  white, 
Our  hearts  were  full  of  windy  weather, 
Clouds  and  blown  stars  and  broken  light" 

SAVAGE,  however,  thought  of  nothing.  His  one  prevailing 
feeling  was  that  of  unutterable  relief.  He  ran  down  the 
stone  steps,  and  hammered  his  hand  in  turn  against  the 
door. 

"  Is  that  you,  Wriothesley  ?  "  he  cried.  "  Thank  Heaven 
you  have  come.  Feel  for  the  key;  it  is  at  your  side,  and 
let  us  out." 

He  spoke  with  such  heartfelt  joy  that  Wriothesley  could 
not  but  believe  he  was  sincere.  He  hardly  dared  to  dwell 
upon  the  doubts  that  had  haunted  him  as  he  ran  through 
the  woods,  but  that  they  had  been  of  the  darkest  hue  he 
knew  now  because  of  the  intensity  of  the  reaction  he  was 
enduring.  He  turned  the  key  in  the  door  as  desired,  and 
stood  silent  upon  the  threshold. 

"  Lady  Wriothesley,  it  is  your  husband ;  come  down," 
cried  Savage,  in  a  quick  eager  tone  that  trembled  with 
excitement.  It  had  not  occurred  to  him  to  explain  any- 
thing to  Wriothesley ;  he  thought  only  of  the  comfort  her 
release  would  be  to  her.  She  came  down  almost  imme- 
diately, and  as  she  emerged  into  the  windy  night,  and  the 
few  straggling  moonbeams  betrayed  her  to  him,  Wriothes- 
ley caught  her  hand  and  drew  it  within  his  arm. 

"  I  am  afraid  I  must  ask  you  to  hurry,"  he  said  with  icy 
politeness.  "  You  have  spent  so  much  time  over  that  old 
ruin  that  I  fear  we  shall  be  late  for  dinner." 

"  For  dinner  !  Is  it  not  over  ?  "  asked  Marvel  quaking. 
"  It  seemed —  I  mean —  What  time  is  it,  then  ?  " 

"  Seven.  We  have  a  mile  to  walk,  and  half-an-hour  to  do 
it  in,  the  other  half  I  leave  for  dressing,"  said  he  grimly ; 
"  so  you  see  you  will  have  to  step  out." 

They  did  step  out  in  a  silence  that  weighed  upon  Marvel 
like  lead.  Once  in  its  commencement  she  broke  it 


250  MAEVEL. 

"  Seven !  I  thought  it  was  midnight ! "  she  said  with  a 
little  bursting  sigh.  All  her  tears  seemed  gone  from  her 
now,  when  she  would  have  given  a  good  deal  for  the  relief 
of  them  in  the  cold  and  dark  of  the  night  when  no  man 
could  see  her ;  but  though  her  heart  seemed  bursting,  she 
found  no  means  to  ease  it. 

Wriothesley  took  no  notice  of  her  words.  He  trudged  on 
in  an  impenetrable  dumbness  that  frightened  her  more  than 
all  the  cutting  speeches  in  the  world  could  have  done.  The 
wind  still  roared  around  them ;  the  cold  was  intense  ;  the 
way  through  the  rough  unused  pathways  almost  unbear- 
able, but  he  took  no  notice  of  anything,  save  that  when 
once  she  stumbled  he  clutched  her  arm  more  tightly.  He 
asked  no  questions  whatsoever,  and  appeared  quite  dead  to 
the  fact  that  Savage  walked  beside  them. 

At  last  the  latter  could  stand  it  no  longer. 

"  I  think  it  is  as  well,"  said  he  as  indifferently  as  he  could, 
"  that  you  should  know  how  this  unhappy  delay  occurred." 

Wriothesley  made  no  reply;  he  walked  on  in  fact  as 
though  he  neither  heard  nor  saw  the  speaker. 

"  I  have  no  doubt  you  are  annoyed,"  said  Savage  quietly, 
keeping  his  temper  (which  was  by  no  means  a  good  one) 
by  a  superhuman  effort,  "  but  for  Lady  Wriothesley's  sake 
it  is  just  as  well  that  you  should  know  what  happened. 
We  went  to  look  at  that  tower,  found  the  door  open  and 
went  in,  very  naturally,  to  see  what  was  there.  Whilst  up- 
stairs the  door,  driven  by  a  gust  of  wind,  clapped  to,  the 
bolt  shot  into  its  place,  and  left  us  prisoners,  Had  you  not 
come  we  should  have  been  prisoners  still." 

Not  a  word  from  Wriothesley. 

"  You  understand  ?  "  from  Savage,  who  began  to  feel  that 
he  would  like  to  murder  him. 

"  Entirely,"  said  Wriothesley  slowly. 

"  I  regret  very  much  that  I  have  been  the  cause  of  con- 
siderable anxiety  to  Lady  Wriothesley.  It  was  quite  my 
fault  that  we  entered  the  tower  at  all.  I  hope,"  stiffly, 
"  that  you  will  believe  how  very  much  I  reproach  myself  in 
this  matter." 

"I  understand  that  too,  and  also  that  your  feelings  on 
the  subject  are  not  of  the  slightest  consequence." 


MARVEL.  251 

"  It  was  not  Mr.  Savage's  fault  so  much  as  he  says,"  put 
in  Marvel  hurriedly  in  a  frightened,  nervous  tone.  "I  was 
the  first  to  express  a  wish  to  see  that  old  ruin,  and  though  he 
dissuaded  me  and  said  how  late  it  was,  I  persisted,  and * 

"  Nevertheless  it  was  my  fault,"  persisted  Savage,  defend 
ing  her  from  herself  rather  unwisely  ;  "  I  knew  better  than 
you  did  the  time  it  would  take  to  reach  home,  and  I  should 
have  prevented  any  deviation  from  our  path." 

"Are  you  apologizing  for  Lady  Wriothesley ? "  asked 
Fulke  suddenly,  in  a  slow  condensed  tone  that  made 
Marvel's  blood  run  cold.  Even  Savage  seemed  impressed 
by  it  to  an  uncomfortable  degree. 

"Certainly  not,"  he  said,  however,  with  considerable 
spirit.  "  Apology  would  be  out  of  place  for  either  her  or 
me.  An  accident  is  an  accident,  no  more,  no  less.  I  was 
only  afraid  you  would  not  be  able  to  grasp  the  real  meaning 
of  a  very  awkward  situation  without  a  word  from  me.  Lady 
Wriothesley  too  was  afraid  her  absence  might  cause  remark, 
and — and  of  course  I  think  it  well  you  should  know  exactly 
how  it  was  that  she  and  I  were " 

"  Sir ! "  interrupted  Wriothesley  with  indescribable  hau- 
teur ;  "  pray  spare  yourself  further  explanation.  The  door 
shut  to  without  asking  Lady  Wriothesley's  permission  and 
so  kept  her  prisoner  sorely  against  her  will,  as  I  am  quite 
assured.  It  is  quite  unnecessary  that  you  should  enter  into 
details  of  any  sort.  The  story  begins  and  ends  there.  I 
am  perfectly  aware,  without  your  seeking  to  impress  it  upon 
me,  that  Lady  Wriothesley  of  her  own  accord  would  never 
cause  her  friends  anxiety." 

Nothing  more  was  said  after  this.  Wriothesley  quickened 
his  pace,  and  Marvel's  hand  being  drawn  through  his  arm 
she  was  compelled  to  hasten  hers  also.  She  walked  quickly, 
sometimes  almost  running,  and  stumbling  over  roots  of  trees 
that  came  in  her  way ;  sometimes  after  a  little  shock  of  this 
kind  gasping  for  breath,  but  Wriothesley  never  seemed  to 
mind.  He  strode  on  in  a  violent  determined  fashion,  and 
only  once  made  her  a  speech  that  was  hardly  conciliatory 
upon  the  haste  he  used. 

"  I  am  sorry  to  make  you  walk  at  such  a  rate,"  he  said ; 
"but  you  see  when  you  squander  time  you  must  regain  it 


25*  MARVEL. 

one  way  or  another.  This  is  rather  a  hard  way,  but  it  can- 
not be  helped." 

At  last  the  lights  of  Verulam  came  to  her  through  the 
trees,  and  frightened  though  she  was  at  all  that  would 
inevitably  await  her  within  doors,  she  hailed  their  appear- 
ance with  delight.  She  was  tired  out,  cold,  almost  frozen, 
»nd  besides  once  there  she  could  get  away  from  this  terrible 
arm  that  held  her  tightly  bound  to  the  man  she  feared  and, 
alas !  loved  more  than  any  other  creature  upon  earth.  How 
cruel  he  was  to  her,  yet  too,  how  kind !  He  had  come  to 
her  rescue  after  all,  and  though  it  was  as  she  believed  only 
a  sense  of  duty  sent  him  forth,  still  duty  is  a  noble  thing, 
and  those  who  regard  it  should  be  held  in  honourable 
account. 

They  all  three  reached  the  steps  and  entered  the  hall,  the 
door  lying  wide  open,  without  encountering  any  one.  Savage 
turned  aside  in  the  direction  of  the  library,  where  he  knew 
all  would  be  assembled  at  this  hour,  and  Marvel  made  direct 
for  the  staircase,  hoping  to  escape  to  her  room  without  a 
further  lecture.  Wriothesley  forestalled  her. 

"  I  should  like  to  speak  to  you  for  a  moment,"  he  said, 
"if  you  will  come  in  here."  He  did  not  leave  it  to  her, 
however,  to  reject  or  accept  his  proposal,  because  he  caught 
her  hand  as  she  hesitated  and  drew  her  into  the  empty 
morning-room. 


CHAPTER  XLII. 

"  I  would  that  you  were  all  to  me, 

You  that  are  just  so  much,  no  more, 
Nor  yours,  nor  mine — nor  slave,  nor  free  1 
Where  does  the  fault  lie  ?  what  the  core 
Of  the  wound,  since  wound  must  be  ?  " 

MARVEL,  with  a  little  chill  at  her  heart  and  feeling  utterly 
unstrung,  followed  him.  When  he  had  brought  her  into  the 
room  he  let  her  hand  go,  and  closing  the  door  looked  hard 
at  her. 

"  How  long  is  this  to  go  on  ?  "  he  said  in  a  cold  uncom- 
promising tone. 


MARVEL.  353 

"This?  What?"  asked  she  rather  confounded.  She 
expected  a  regular  scolding  for  her  misdemeanour  of  the 
afternoon,  and  this  question  coming  so  suddenly  puzzled  her. 

"  Your  friendship  with  Mr.  Savage." 

"  Don't  be  angry  with  Nigel,"  she  said  earnestly  but 
timidly.  "  It  was  not  his  fault  at  all.  Oh  !  yes,"  putting  up 
her  hand  as  she  saw  him  about  to  speak  with  a  terrible 
accession  of  wrath  upon  his  brow,  "  I  know  he  said  it  was, 
but,  indeed,  I  assure  you  it  was  I  alone  who  wanted  to  see 
that  old  tower.  He  tried  even  to  keep  me  from  going  there, 
but  it  looked  so  quaint,  so  lovely  in  the  twilight,  that  I 
could  not  resist  it,  and  then  the  door  closed,  as  you  know, 
and  then,"  growing  agitated,  "  I  thought  we  should  be  left 
there  for  ever,  and — and  the  time  went  on  until  I  thought 

all  hope  was  over,  and  then  you  came  and That  was 

all,  indeed.  It  wasn't  that  I  forgot  the  time ;  it  was  only 
that  I  couldn't  get  home,  and  I  knew  you  would  be  angry ; 
but  if  you  had  been  there  yourself  you  would  have  been  in 
just  the  same  plight,  and — and " 

She  stopped  dead  short,  as  if  choking.  She  was  almost 
sobbing.  She  was  frightened,  terrified  in  fact,  and  her 
breath  came  quickly  through  her  parted  lips.  She  had 
clasped  her  little  slender  hands  upon  her  bosom  as  though 
to  still  its  beatings,  and  was  so  altogether  and  openly  afraid 
of  him  that  Wriothesley  was  cut  to  the  heart. 

"  You  need  not  look  at  me  like  that,"  he  said.  "  1 
believe  every  word  you  say.  There  is  no  need  for  you  to 
so  excuse  yourself.  The  whole  thing  was  unfortunate — no 
more."  He  paused  for  a  moment  and  then  :  "  I  regret 
very  much,"  he  said,  "  that  my  presence  causes  you  to  feel 
such  extreme  nervousness." 

He  spoke  so  gently,  if  coldly,  that  Marvel,  whose  nerves 
were  strung  to  the  last  pitch  by  all  she  had  undergone 
during  the  afternoon,  broke  down  and  burst  into  tears. 

"  It  is  very  good  of  you,"  she  said,  sobbing  rather  wildly. 
u  I  am  frightened  because  I  thought  you  would  be  angry 
about  it,  and  at  one  time  there  seemed  no  chance  of  ever 
getting  out  of  that  horrid  place,  and  it  was  not  my  fault  at 
all.  It  was  nobody's  fault.  It  was  only  Nigel  and  I  wanted 
to " 


254  MARVEL. 

"I  know"  interrupted  he,  with  a  sudden  stamp  of  his 
foot  that  was  involuntary  and  full  of  ill- suppressed  passion. 
"  Do  not  talk  any  more  about  it.  And,  if  I  were  you,  I 
shouldn't  cry  about  it  either.  There  is  dinner  before  you, 
remember,  and  all  those  women  will  be  watching  you." 

"  Oh  !  I  can't  come  down  to  dinner,"  cried  she  miserably, 
"  to  be  stared  at,  wondered  at.  I  will  not !  It  would  be 
quite  different  if  you  and  I  were  as  other  married  people — 
good  friends  and  that — but  they  all  know  how  it  is  with 
us.  And  they  will  be  talking  of  it ;  they  have  been  talking, 
haven't  they  ?  "  turning  round  to  him  with  wide  unhappy 
eyes. 

"Whether  they  have  or  not  is  of  little  consequence. 
You  must  certainly  come  down  to  dinner,"  said  he  with 
cold  authority  in  his  tone.  "  You  have  placed  yourself  in 
a  false  position,  and  all  that  is  left  to  you  now  is  to  face  and 
overcome  it." 

"  If  Cicely She  might  perhaps  make  an  excuse  for 

me,"  faltered  she. 

"  Why  should  any  excuse  be  made  ?  Are  you  not  well 
— strong  ?  "  coldly.  "  No,  it  is  quite  out  of  the  question." 

"  I  am  tired,  unnerved  ;  surely " 

"For  one  who  professes  strongly  to  dread  public  discus- 
sion, I  must  say  you  have  an  odd  way  of  showing  it.  If 
you  absent  yourself  from  dinner  to-night  there  will  be 
more  of  that  '  talk '  you  seem  to  fear  so  greatly  than  any 
that  has  gone  before.  I  should  advise  you  at  all  incon- 
venience to  show  yourself  to-night.  In  this  one  matter  at 
least,"  said  he  bitterly,  "  permit  me  to  judge  for  you." 

She  sighed  submissively,  and  moved  towards  the  door. 
She  owed  him  obedience  in  this,  she  thought,  if  only  on 
account  of  the  way  in  which  he  had  condoned  her  offence, 
that,  however  really  innocent,  had  nevertheless  caused  him 
a  good  deal  of  annoyance.  When  she  got  to  the  door, 
however,  she  paused  and  looked  back  at  him. 

"  Do  you  think,"  she  asked  shyly,  "  that  they  will  speak 
of  it  ?  Will  ask  me  to  explain,  I  mean  ?  " 

"  I  have  no  doubt,"  calmly,  "  that  your  friend  Mr. 
Savage  having  got  you  into  this  scrape  will  now  do  his  best 
to  get  you  out  of  it  again.  Probably  he  is  doing  the  '  ex- 


MARVEL.  ass 

plaining '  at  this  moment.  You  had  better  leave  it  all  to 
him." 

"  But  if  anything  should  be  said ;  and  she —  "  stammer- 
ing— "  Mrs.  Scarlett — she " 

"No  one  shall  make  you  unhappy  about  it,  if  that  is 
what  you  mean,"  said  he  shortly.  He  frowned,  yet  in 
spite  of  the  anger  he  was  feeling  a  great  pity  for  her  arose 
in  his  heart.  She  looked  so  pale,  so  childish,  standing  there 
with  that  forlorn  frightened  look  on  her  lovely  face.  He 
remembered  how  she  had  seemed  to  him  on  that  night  at 
Lady  Elaine's  ball,  a  tall,  slender,  haughty  creature,  who 
moved  and  looked  as  though  the  world  was  at  her  feet, 
that  night  when  he  had  not  known  her.  But  now  it  was  all 
different,  she  stood  there  nervous,  helpless.  She  seemed 
to  have  grown  very  young  again  through  her  fear,  almost 
like  the  Marvel  of  long  ago !  How  long  ago  it  seemed 
now ! 

She  was  still  trifling  uncertainly  with  the  handle  of  the 
door,  as  if  eager  to  be  gone,  yet  more  eager  still  to  say 
something  before  going,  that  required  a  little  courage  in  the 
utterance. 

"  Would  you  very  much  mind,"  she  said  at  last,  "  being 
near,  close  to  the  drawing-room  door,  when  I  come  down  ? 
I  could  pretend  to  say  something  to  you  when  I  entered — 
it  would  take  away  some  of  the  awkwardness." 

"  Not  in  the  least.  And  I  don't  see  why  you  need  pre- 
tend either.  You  can  " — with  a  faint  sneer — "  make  up  a 
nice  little  speech  for  the  occasion,  something  conjugal, 
loving,  to  deliver  as  your  eyes  meet  mine." 

"  Well,  so  I  could,"  said  she,  sighing  disconsolately.  The 
sneer  had  passed  her  by. 

"Though  I  think  you  have  hit  on  rather  a  bad  plan. 
My  presence  is  so  plainly  distasteful  to  you,  and  has  so 
much  the  unfortunate  effect  of  increasing  your  natural 
nervousness,  that  I  would  suggest  your  stationing  somebody 
else  beside  the  door,  Savage  for  example.  You  are  evidently 
quite  at  home  with  him." 

"  Does  that  mean  that  you  will  not  help  me  ?  "  asked  she, 
turning  very  pale. 

"  On  the  contrary,  that  I  wish  to  help  you." 


256  MARVEL* 

"  Do  you  know  that  you  are  very  cruel,  very  unjust,"  said 
she  with  quivering  lips.  "  And,"  in  a  low  tone,  "  what  I 
did  not  believe  you — ungenerous." 

"  Ungenerous  ?  "  repeated  he,  as  if  stung. 

"  Yes,  I  am  a  little  perplexed  just  now — a  little  at  your 
mercy,  and  you  make  me  feel  it." 

"  Look  here,"  said  he  impulsively,  making  a  step  towards 
her,  until  he  saw  that  she  shrank  backwards,  when  he 
stopped  ;  "  don't  you  think  you  have  had  enough  of  this 
sort  of  thing  ?  You  can't  go  on  playing  with  fire  for  ever 
without  being  scorched.  To-night  has  awakened  you  to 
that  fact.  Will  you  give  it  up  and  come  away  with  me  to 
the  North,  to  Ringwood,  anywhere  ?  I  shan't  be  much  in 
your  way — I'll  promise  to  keep  out  of  it  as  far  as  I  can.  I 
would  indeed  do  a  good  deal  to  put  an  end  to  this  state  of 
affairs." 

"  To  go — to  that  lonely  place — alone  with  you.  Oh  no  ! 
Do  not  ask  it,"  entreated  she,  in  a  low  but  vehement  tone. 
"  Knowing  all  I  do,  it  would  be  insupportable  to  me.  You 
too,  you  would  not  be  able  to  endure  it.  If — if  there  was 
love  it  would  be  different.  But  do  not  insist  upon  this, 
Fulke,  I  implore  you.  If  you  do,"  with  a  miserable  glance 
at  him,  "I  shall  break  my  heart." 

"  Well,  don't  do  it  just  now  at  all  events,"  said  he  roughly, 
and  with  a  touch  of  open  scorn.  "  There  isn't  any  time  for 
an  exhibition  of  that  sort.  If  you  mean  to  change  your 
gown  for  dinner,  I'd  advise  you  to  do  it  at  once."  He 
turned  upon  his  heels  and  left  her. 

Marvel  ran  up  the  stairs  quickly,  fearful  of  being  stopped 
and  questioned.  She  had  never  in  all  her  young  life  felt 
so  utterly  alone  as  at  this  moment.  She  longed,  yet  feared, 
to  see  Cicety,  knowing  she  would  scold  her,  and  indeed 
there  was  no  one  upon  whom  she  could  depend  to  sym- 
pathize with  her  and  condole  without  the  hateful  preliminary 
lecture. 

Oh,  if  he  had  but  loved  her !  If  she  could  omy  have 
thrown  herself  fearlessly  upon  his  breast  and  told  him  all, 
with  tears  and  caresses  !  Tears  ?  'Why  there  would  have 
been  no  tears  had  that  been  so,  only  a  laughing  explanation 
of  a  ridiculous  dilemma.  So  strongly  do  circumstances 


MARVEL.  237 

colour  cases,  that  what  would  have  been  a  matter  for  Jesting 
with  one,  was  now  for  her  a  subject  bordering  upon  the 
infringement  of  the  decencies  of  society. 

She  sat  in  her  room,  cold  and  disconsolate,  shrinking 
from  the  thought  that  presently  she  should  have  to  summon 
her  maid,  although  now  barely  a  quarter-of-an-hour  remained 
for  her  in  which  to  change  her  gown.  Again  and  again 
there  returned  to  her  that  longing  to  fling  herself  into  his 
embrace,  to  feel  his  dear  arms  round  her,  to  be  sure  of 
a  welcome  there.  If  she  was  sure  of  that  she  would  care 
for  nothing.  No  one  would  have  the  power  to  frighten 
her.  But  this  sad  feeling  of  utter  loneliness  I  His  last 
scornful  words,  his  last  look  remained  with  her,  and  chilled 
her  to  her  very  soul.  And  with  it  was  the  miserable  know- 
ledge that  she  had  to  go  downstairs  presently  and  face 
them  all.  Cicely  would  greet  her  with  a  vivid  reproach  in 
her  dark  eyes.  Lady  Lucy  would  probably  show  her  dis- 
pleasure by  a  marked  coldness.  And  there  would  be  no 
one  to  help  her.  By  Fulke's  last  words  she  felt  certain  he 
would  not  be  at  the  door  to  help  her  to  get  over  the  almost 
childish  nervousness  she  was  sure  to  betray. 

She  rose  with  a  little  start  and  rang  her  bell,  and  Burton 
came  hurrying  in.  Burton  was  a  comfort,  certainly.  She 
loved  her  honestly,  neither  for  wage  nor  for  favour,  but  be 
cause  she  had  served  her  ever  since  she  was  a  little  girl  and 
openly  believed  her  to  be  the  sweetest  thing  on  earth.  How- 
ever it  was,  she  was  the  apple  of  Burton's  eye,  who  was 
herself  an  unspoilable  old  maid  and  very  apt  to  regard  with 
that  greenish  orb  all  other  people  with  a  stern  disfavout 

"Law,  my  lady,  you'll  be  late,"  she  said  now,  bustling 
about  amongst  Marvel's  many  gowns.  "  Ten  minutes  !  and 
not  even  your  walking  gown  off.  Which  dress  shall  I  lay 
out,  my  lady  ?  " 

"  The  prettiest,  Burton,  the  most  becoming,"  said  Marvel, 
with  sudden  energy,  beginning  to  pull  off  the  damp  gown 
she  still  wore.  It  occurred  to  her  that  when  going  to  exe- 
cution it  is  a  point  of  etiquette  to  don  one's  Sunday  clothes ; 
and  besides,  thought  the  poor  child,  feverishly,  as  he  is 
angry  it  may  make  him  a  little  less  angry  if  I  look  my  best. 
So  a  white  gown  was  chosen  and  a  few  priceless  pearls  were 

17 


258  MARVEL. 

twisted  in  her  hair  and  round  her  soft  firm  lovely  throat, 
and  with  a  brilliant  gleam,  born  of  excitement,  in  her  large 
eyes,  and  a  face  as  pale  as  a  snowdrop,  she  went  downstairs 
to  encounter  the  sneers  and  smothered  smiles  that  she  felt 
were  awaiting  her.  Oh  !  if  she  could  only  manage  to  keep 
out  of  Mrs.  Scarlett's  way — for  after  all  it  was  of  her  she 
was  really  afraid. 

She  was  wrong,  however,  in  her  belief  that  Wriothesley 
would  not  come  to  her  assistance.  He  stood  exactly  inside 
the  door  as  she  entered  it,  and  as  she  glanced  at  him  and 
paused  in  her  surprise  and  agitation,  he  went  up  to  her  and 
pushed  aside  a  chair  that  stood  a  little  in  her  way. 

"After  all,  you  forgot  to  make  up  that  speech,"  he  said, 
with  a  half-amused  smile.  She  smiled  back  at  him  with  the 
tears  in  her  eyes.  She  was  at  that  moment  passionately 
grateful  to  him.  But  there  was  not  any  time  to  say  anything, 
because  just  then  Lady  Lucy  laid  her  hand  upon  her  arm, 
and  Marvel,  looking  up  apprehensively,  saw  that  she  was 
smiling. 

"  You're  a  happy  young  woman,"  she  said,  with  her  usual 
carelessness  of  effect,  but  with  a  friendly  glance.  "  Half  the 
world  spend  a  lifetime  in  trying  to  get  themselves  talked 
about,  and  you  accomplish  it  in  a  few  hours.  Well — a  nice 
fright  you  gave  me.  I  was  about  to  have  the  duck  pond 
dragged  for  your  liveless  corse  when  Fulke  brought  you 
home.  How  pale  you  look,  child ;  I  hope  you  have  not 
caught  cold.  Nigel  has  been  giving  us  a  thrilling  account 
of  your  incarceration,  and  I'm  sure  you  must  both  have  been 
frozen  in  that  wretched  old  tower.  Henry  "  (Lord  Verulam) 
"  is  so  annoyed  about  it.  He  is  going  to  have  that  treacher- 
ous lock  taken  off  to-morrow." 

At  this  Marvel  plucked  up  courage  and  began  to  find  out 
that  she  had  been  exaggerating  her  own  offence,  and  that  no 
one  regarded  it  half  so  seriously  as  she  did.  Even  Cicely, 
who  always  disapproved  of  her  friendship  for  Nigel,  only 
told  her  she  was  "  incorrigible,"  with  a  little  loving  laugh, 
when  she  found  herself  near. 

"  Are  you  sure  you  felt  no  chill  ?  What  a  miserable  plight 
to  be  in,"  she  said. 

There  had  been  a  good  deal  of  talk  about  it  over  the  tea 


MAKVEL.  259 

cups  a  while  ago,  and  later  when  the  truth  was  discovered. 
Savage,  who  had  sauntered  in  amongst  them  with  an  uncon- 
cerned air,  had  told  his  tale  in  an  unvarnished  fashion,  and 
many  had  been  the  comments  thereon.  Mrs.  Dameron  had 
been  flippantly  slanderous  about  it,  Mr.  Kitts  a  trifle 
amusing,  though  in  a  good-natured  way.  To  Dameron  it 
had  been  merely  a  situation  that  might  be  worked  up  into  a 
chapter  in  the  novel  that  was  soon  to  electrify  the  world. 
Mrs.  Scarlett  had  been  eloquently  silent,  and  Mrs.  Geraint 
had  grown  suddenly  intense,  and  had  wondered  in  an 
emotional  manner  how  the  stars  had  looked  as  seen  through 
those  aesthetic  openings  in  those  grand  old  medireval  walls, 
whilst  the  storm  rode  high  and  the  heavens  were  afire  with 
electric  light  ! 

Dinner  passed  over  without  the  slightest  allusion  to  the 
event  of  the  afternoon,  and  afterwards  there  was  a  good 
deal  of  music  and  some  chess  and  baccarat,  and  Marvel, 
who  had  recovered  herself  and  was  feeling  happier  than  usual 
in  spite  of  all  that  had  happened,  began  to  think  she  had  heard 
the  last  of  what  had  been  to  her  so  sore  an  experience. 

She  had  been  talking  to  Mr.  Kitts,  and  had  just  turned 
aside  from  him,  meaning  to  cross  the  room  to  where  Cicely 
stood  with  Sir  George  as  usual  leaning  over  her  chair,  when  a 
soft  languid  voice  smote  on  her  ears. 

"  So  glad  you  have  not  suffered  in  any  way  through  your 
little  adventure  of  this  evening,"  said  Mrs.  Scarlett,  smiling 
at  her  with  the  slow  insolent  smile  that  Marvel  so  well  knew, 
and  so  much  dreaded.  There  was  meaning  in  the  smooth 
tones.  "  We  missed  you,"  she  went  on,  and  then  paused, 
"  for  hours,  I  think.  Were  you  locked  up  in  that  romantir 
old  place  with  Mr.  Savage  for  hours  ?  " 

"  It  seemed  an  eternity,"  replied  Marvel,  as  calmly  as  she 
could,  though  her  heart  began  to  beat  with  unpleasant  force. 
Why  did  this  woman  hate  her  so  ?  Some  instinct  taught 
her  that  the  answer  to  that  question  lay  hidden  deeper  down 
than  could  be  found  in  that  popular  one  of  jealousy. 

"So  long?  and  in  such  congenial  society?"  with  the 
same  cruel  flickering  smile.  Marvel  looked  round  for  escape, 
but  could  see  none ;  and  she  had  sufficient  pride  to  decline 
to  run  from  her  foe.  She  turned  her  large  earnest  eye* 

17—2 


26o  MAEVEL. 

upon  her  with  a  glance  full  of  melancholy  entreaty,  but  she 
said  nothing.  There  was  always  something  about  this 
woman,  who  never  spared  her  taunt  or  gibe,  that  attracted 
and  fascinated  her  as  much  as  it  repulsed  her.  "  It  was 
your  husband  who  unearthed  you,  was  it  not  ?  Well,  and 
how  did  he  take  it  ?  Did  he  care  ?  " 

"  Was  there  any  reason  why  he  should  ?"  with  a  suspicion 
of  hauteur.  "  He  regretted  the  inconvenience  to  which  I 
had  been  put,  but  further  than  that  Lord  Wriothesley  did 
not,  as  you  call  it,  '  care.' " 

"  No  ?  How  amiable  of  him ! "  She  leant  back  a  little 
and  looked  straight  at  Marvel  over  the  top  of  her  huge 
feather  fan.  "  That,"  she  said  deliberately,  "  is  the  comfort 
of  having  a  husband  who  is  entirely  indifferent." 

Lady  Wriothesley  grew  pale  to  her  very  lips,  and  her  clear 
eyes  shone. 

"There  are  moments  when  you  forget  yourself,"  she  said, 
very  gently,  but  with  unspeakable  dignity.  Mrs.  Scarlett 
stared  at  her  coolly  for  full  a  minute,  and  then  smiled  in  her 
swift  languid  way. 

"  Never !  There  you  wrong  me,"  she  said,  with  perfect 
unconcern  ;  "I  never  forget  anything — myself  least  of  all. 
Don't  get  incorrect  notions  about  me  into  your  head.  And 
please  don't  stand  there,  dear  Lady  Wriothesley,  looking  as 
though  you  were  quite  eager  for  a  pretext  to  leave  me. 
Spare  me  a  minute  or  two  to  amuse  me  with  your  little 
fiasco  of  this  afternoon." 

Marvel  rejected  her  offer  of  a  seat  on  the  lounge  beside 
her  by  a  gracefully  disdainful  gesture  of  the  hand,  and  was 
thinking  eagerly  of  some  last  word  to  say  before  leaving, 
when  Wriothesley  came  quickly  up  to  where  she  stood  and 
laid  his  hand  carelessly,  but  with  all  the  appearance  of  good 
fellowship,  upon  her  shoulder. 

"  You  have  been  waiting  for  me,  perhaps,"  he  said,  look- 
ing earnestly  into  her  eyes,  "  but  I  assure  you  I  could  not 
come  sooner."  She  understood  him,  and  flashed  back  at  him 
an  answering  glance  full  of  warmest  gratitude.  She  did  not 
shrink  from  him,  there  was  no  access  of  nervousness  in  her 
manner  because  of  his  presence  at  this  moment,  at  all 
events,  as  he  noticed  with  a  little  throb  of  relief. 


MARVEL.  261 

"  And  what  have  you  two  been  talking  about  ?  "  he  went 
on  pleasantly,  glancing  keenly  from  Mrs.  Scarlett's  impene- 
trable face,  which  yet  was  alight  with  mocking  fire,  to 
Marvel's,  which  was  extremely  pale.  That  one  glance 
enabled  him  to  take  in  the  situation. 

"  I  was  just  entreating  Lady  Wriothesley  to  sit  by  me  for 
a  little,  and  give  me  an  account  of  her  adventure,"  said 
Mrs.  Scarlett  suavely. 

"  What !  a  second  edition  !  Surely  you  must  be  hard  up 
for  conversation,"  said  he  laughing.  "Why  just  before 
dinner  I  saw  you  listening  attentively  to  Savage's  description 
of  it,  which  really  was  well  worth  the  hearing.  He  should 
be  congratulated  on  his  style — so  terse,  so  graphic.  I 
assure  you  anything  Lady  Wriothesley  could  say  would  be 
tame  in  comparison.  You  will  forgive  me  that  detestable 
speech  ?  "  with  a  courteous  smile  at  his  wife. 

"  Anything !  "  replied  Marvel  gratefully  ;  and  with  a 
slight  salutation  to  Mrs.  Scarlett,  she  crossed  the  room  to 
where  Cicely  sat. 

Lord  Wriothesley  found  a  chair  and  seated  himself  beside 
Mrs.  Scarlett,  with  all  the  bearing  of  one  who  meant  to  stay 
where  he  was  for  quite  an  indefinite  period.  Mrs.  Scarlett 
drew  her  skirts  a  little  to  one  side  to  admit  of  his  coming 
closer,  and  leant  towards  him  with  her  most  fascinating 
smile. 


CHAPTER  XLIII. 

a  Let  this  be  said  between  us  here, 

One  love  grows  green  when  one  turns  grey  ; 
This  year  knows  nothing  of  last  year  ; 
To-morrow  has  no  more  to  say 
To  yesterday." 

"AFTER  all,  Nigel  Savage  is  not  so  clever  as  I  believed 
him,"  she  said,  with  &  faint  updrawing  of  her  pencilled 
brows  and  a  little  shrug.  "  That  sudden  devotion  to  Mrs. 
Dameron,  that  open  avoidance  of  the  other,  is  very 
poor  indeed." 

"  Is  it  ?     I  haven't  studied  it,"  said  Wriothesley  with  a 


262  MARVEL. 

rather  amused  smile.  "  Savage,  however,  appears  to  me  tu 
be  rather  poor  all  through.  At  the  same  time  I  wouldn't 
if  I  were  you  try  to  make  a  romance  out  of  a  ludicrous 
incident.  There  doesn't  seem  to  me  to  be  the  material  for 
it." 

"  No  ?  It  is  charming  to  see  you  so  free  from  that 
vulgar  vice  called  jealousy,"  said  she,  with  a  lingering  glance 
at  him  ;  "  though  one  does  hear  that  there  can  be  no  true 
love  without  it.  You  are  changed,  my  friend ;  there  was  a 
time  when  you  would  not  have  looked  with  such  lenient 
eyes  upon  a  rival." 

"  What  a  dark  saying !  Must  I  unravel  it  ? "  said 
VVriothesley  gaily.  "  I  am  not  good  at  guessing,  and  I 
confess  that  bit  about  the  rival  throws  me  out  altogether. 
Where  does  he  come  in  ?  For  the  rest,  were  you  alluding 
to  those  old  days  when  I  was  so  desperately  in  love  with 
you  ?  Jolly  old  days  they  were,  weren't  they  ?  " 

She  was  quite  equal  to  the  task  of  hiding  from  him  the 
bitter  chagrin  she  was  feeling,  but  he  intercepted  and  caught 
the  one  swift  dart  of  vindictive  anger  that  flashed  from  her 
eyes  to  his,  and  that  she  was  unable  to  control. 

"By-the-by,"  he  went  on  presently,  "I  have  often 
wondered  why  you  never  married." 

"  It  is  kind  of  you  to  have  wasted  so  many  thoughts  on 
me.  /  have  wondered  at  that  too,  perhaps,"  with  a  rather 
bitter  little  laugh.  "  I  was  so  very  nearly  a  duchess  that  I 
did  not  care  to  accept  a  lesser  part — to  '  decline  on  a  range 
of  lower  feelings.' " 

"  I  daresay  there  is  a  good  deal  in  that,"  said  he  care- 
lessly; "and  after  all,  too,  marriage  is  not  always  the 
happiest  of  estates." 

"  True,"  said  she  grimly ;  and  then  :  "  You  speak  from 
experience  ?  " 

"Well,  no,"  with  a  rather  amused  air.  "I  am  so  very 
little  married  you  see  that  my  experience  would  go  for 
naught.  You  are  different ;  and  in  those  old  days  we  were 
just  now  discussing  you  used  to  tell  me  that " 

"  I  think  perhaps  it  would  be  more  graceful  of  you,"  she 
said,  "to  forget  all  that  happy  past."  Her  tone  was 
peculiar. 


MARVEL.  263 

"  Why  should  one  forget  what  was  so  happy  ?  "  replied 
he  with  the  utmost  cheerfulness.  "No;  I  like  to  re- 
member it.  It  was  pleasant  whilst  it  lasted,  and  it  taught 
me  many  things." 

"  Even  how  to  tolerate  the  foolish  flirtations  of  a  frivolous 
child!"  exclaimed  she  in  a  low  tone,  with  an  undisguised 
sneer.  He  laughed,  although  a  sullen  dark  red  mounted  to 
his  brow. 

"  That  is  unworthy  of  you  ! "  he  said.  "  You  are  too 
lovely  a  woman  to  descend  to  such  speeches  as  that." 

"  Never  mind  me,"  said  she  with  a  frown.  "  We  were 
talking  a  while  since  of  Lady  Wriothesley." 

"  So  we  were.  She  is  so  charming  a  study  that  I  do  not 
wonder  at  your  returning  to  it" 

"You  are  not  the  only  one  who  finds  her  charming." 

"  Naturally.     To  look  at  her  is  to  admire  her." 

"  If  she  is  so  precious  in  your  sight " — with  a  curl  of  her 
lips — "  I  wonder  you  do  not  guard  her  more  carefully." 

"Am  I  remiss  in  my  duty?  Just  think  how  I  ran 
through  all  the  storm  and  wind  this  evening  to  her  rescue." 

"  To  get  small  thanks  for  your  pains,  I  expect." 

"  I  got  very  pretty  thanks,  on  the  contrary.  I  don't 
believe,"  airily,  "  she  was  ever  so  glad  to  see  me  in  her  life 
before." 

"  She  is  not  so  stupid  then  as  her — as  Mr.  Savage.  She, 
it  appears,  can  act  her  part,"  said  she  with  a  cold  disdain. 

"  A  word,"  said  Wriothesley,  leaning  towards  her,  with  an 
ominous  light  in  his  eyes  that  startled  her.  "You  have 
given  me  a  good  deal  of  advice  up  to  this;  take  a  little 
from  me  now.  Do  not  go  too  far  /" 

"  One  cannot  in  friendship's  cause,"  replied  she  coolly. 
"  Why  should  I  not  speak — I,  who  see  most  of  the  game. 
I  warn  you,  in  spite  of  that  last  warning  of  yours,  that 
unless  you  change  your  tactics  you  will  lose  this  paragon  of 
yours."  Her  calm  audacity  restored  him  to  his  former 
careful  indifference,  more  than  all  the  apologies  in  the  world 
could  have  done. 

"  I  do  not  think  so,"  he  said  with  a  smile.  "  She  is 
mine,  and  I  shall  keep  her." 

"  If  you  can  I " 


264  MARVEL. 

"  Another  sibylline  speech !  You  know  I  told  you  you 
were  in  a  rather  exalted  mood  to-night.  By-the-by,  it  is 
rather  a  bad  compliment,  isn't  it,  to  tell  me  I  cannot  hold 
my  own  as  well  as  another." 

"  No  man  can  fight  against  too  heavy  odds."  She  raised 
her  head  and  looked  him  fair  in  the  face.  "  Put  a  stop  to 
your  wife's  intimacy  with  Nigel  Savage,"  she  said.  There 
\vas  something  diabolical  in  the  measured  way  in  which  she 
dealt  this  open  thrust.  Wriothesley  regarded  her  curiously 
for  a  second,  and  then,  taking  up  her  fan  which  lay  on  her 
knee,  tapped  the  back  of  her  hand  lightly  with  it. 

"  Oh,  no ;  I  shan't  do  that"  he  said,  in  the  friendliest 
manner  possible.  "  I  have  the  most  perfect  confidence  in 
Lady  Wriothesley's  taste,  and  I  should  not  dream  of  inter- 
fering with  any  of  her  friendships." 

"  Ah  !  Is  that  your  role  ?  "  said  she,  looking  at  him 
through  insolent,  half-closed  lids.  "  Have  you  ever  thought 
that  people  may  misconstrue  your  motives  ?  " 

"  That  is  of  little  moment  to  me  so  long  as  they  are  not 
misconstrued  by  her." 

"  It  is  amazing,  this  wonderful  affection  that  has  sprung 
up  in  your  breast  for  this  girl,  this  wife,  who  only  a  month 
ago  was  so  great  a  stranger  that  you  did  not  even  know  her. 
Am  I  to  understand  that  you  are  wisely  going  to  make  a 
virtue  of  necessity,  and  pretend  to  be  in  love  with  her?" 

"  I  will  tell  you  a  secret,"  said  Wriothesley  gaily,  lower- 
ing his  tone  to  one  of  a  mysterious  softness.  "  I  have  only 
just  discovered  it  myself,  so  you  are  the  very  first  to  hear 
it.  It  is  all  about  Lady  Wriothesley,  and  it  means  that  I 
— adore  her  /  " 


CHAPTER  XLIV. 

"  A  strange  perplexity 
Creeps  coldly  on  me  like  a  fear  to  die. 
Courage  uncertain  dangers  may  abate  ; 
But  who  can  bear  th'  approach  of  certain  fate?" 

IT  was  an  intense  relief  to  Marvel  when  the  evening  came 
to  an  end,  and  she  was  able  to  retire  to  the  solitude  of  her 


MARVEL.  265 

own  room.  She  dismissed  the  faithful  Burton  almost  im- 
mediately, under  the  plea  of  being  especially  fatigued  ;  and 
then  she  took  her  head  into  her  hands  and  began  to  think. 
The  fire  was  blazing  cheerfully,  and  Burton,  before  being 
driven  forth,  had  put  her  into  a  pretty  loose  robe  of  white 
cashmere  and  swansdown,  so  that  she  was  quite  free  to 
do  her  meditations  as  comfortably  as  possible. 

There  was  a  sense  of  satisfaction  that  was  almost 
luxurious  in  the  thought  that  she  was  at  last  alone,  that 
she  could  think  matters  out  to  their  end  without  having  to 
make  civil  answers  to  dull  remarks  in  the  very  middle  of  a 
tormenting  query  made  to  her  own  heart.  She  felt  a 
lassitude  both  of  mind  and  body,  born  of  the  afternoon's 
misadventure,  and  all  the  nervous  doubts  and  fears  conse- 
quent on  it.  One  thing,  however,  sent  a  little  refreshing 
thrill  through  her — it  was  the  certainty  that  Fulke  had 
taken  her  part  against  Mrs.  Scarlett ! 

Yes,  there  could  be  no  doubt  about  that.  With  what  a 
smile  he  came  up  to  her  then,  when  she  was  feeling 
depressed,  unstrung  by  that  woman's  cruel  insolence  !  He 
had  made  a  little  pretence  of  being  bound  to  come  to  her 
through  an  arrangement  made  on  some  former  occasion, 
and  there  was  something  anxious  in  the  expression  of  his 
eyes  that  showed  her  how  he  dreaded  the  thought  that  he 
was  late  in  saving  her  from  annoyance.  Mrs.  Scarlett,  of 
course,  had  not  understood  all  that.  Marvel  threw  up  her 
head,  and  the  soft  warm  blood  dyed  her  cheek,  and  a  pretty 
triumphant  smile  parted  her  lips  as  she  told  herself  there 
had  been  quite  a  secret  understanding  between  her  and 
Fulke  to-night,  into  which  Mrs.  Scarlett  had  not  entered. 

Perhaps  his  old  love  for  her  was  dead  !  Oh !  if  that 
might  be  !  Its  death  would  not,  of  course,  bring  any 
nearer  the  birth  of  a  love  for  her,  and  yet  there  was  comfort 
in  the  thought  of  it ;  not  only  comfort,  but  absolute  relief. 
Involuntarily  she  lifted  her  hand  to  press  it  against  her 
bosom,  as  if  in  repression  of  a  sudden  sigh,  and  there  her 
fingers  came  in  contact  with  something. 

Only  an  old  locket,  worn,  damaged.  Yet  the  sight  of  it 
drove  the  smile  from  her  face,  the  light  from  her  eyes.  No, 
she  was  mad  to  dream  of  comfort  anywhere ;  there  was  none ! 


266  MARVEL. 

She  rose  and  went  over  to  where  the  lamps  stood  on  her 
dressing-table,  and  looked  at  the  locket ;  at  this  one  frail 
thing  that  connected  her  with  an  unknown  past.  Slowly  she 
opened  it  and  gazed  at  the  face  within ;  so  like  yet  so 
unlike  her  own.  She  glanced  from  it  to  the  mirror,  where 
her  own  face  looked  out  at  her  cold  and  sorrowful,  and 
caught  the  resemblance.  There  was  something,  however, 
about  the  hair  in  the  picture  that  struck  her  as  pecu- 
liar. It  was  brushed  very  closely  back  at  either  side 
so  that  the  shaven  cheeks  looked  thin  and  gaunt.  How 
would  she  look  if  she  brushed  her  hair  like  that  ?  Would 
the  resemblance  be  more  striking  than  it  now  was,  between 
her  and  this  pale,  cynical  looking  man,  whom  she  hardly 
dared  to  call — father. 

She  pulled  the  hairpins  out  of  the  carefully  brushed  hair 
that  Burton  had  but  just  now  coiled  so  smoothly  round  her 
shapely  head,  and  rolled  it  up  again  into  a  loose,  soft,  high 
knot,  that  would  admit  of  the  severe  brushing  back  of  the 
soft  tresses  into  a  severely  Greek  fashion,  so  as  to  accen- 
tuate the  likeness  to  the  picture  that  she  already  saw. 

When  she  had  so  brushed  it,  she  found  the  effect  was 
startling.  She  was  so  like  that  faded  face  lying  in  her  hand 
that  she  could  not  longer  doubt  the  relationship  in  which 
he  stood  to  her.  She  siood  looking  down  upon  it,  wonder- 
ing vaguely,  in  an  awe-stricken  way,  about  many  things,  when 
the  sudden  opening  of  her  door  roused  her  to  more  active 
thought. 

She  turned  abruptly,  standing  now  with  her  back  to  the 
lamps,  as  Mrs.  Scarlett  advanced  across  the  threshold.  She 
hardly  knew  her,  the  cold  supercilious  beauty  of  an  hour 
ago.  She  looked  now  so  wild  and  haggard.  Her  lips  were 
blue,  her  hand  was  pressed  convulsively  to  her  side. 

"  Have  you  any  chloral  ?"  she  asked  in  a  fierce  impatient 
tone,  that  bespoke  a  very  agony  of  pain.  "  My  maid 
belongs  to  this  part  of  the  world,  and  I  gave  her  leave  to 
go  home  to-night,  and  she  has  forgotten  to  put  out  the 
bottle,  or  mislaid  it,  or  something.  Have  you  any  ?  " 

"  No — but "  began  Marvel,  who  was  a  little  frightened, 

not  only  at  her  sudden  entrance,  but  by  the  ghastiiness  of 
her  appearance. 


MAKVEL.  267 

"  Do  you  mean  that  you  can  get  some  ? w  feverishly. 
"If  so,  do,  and  at  once." 

"  I  think,  perhaps,  if  I  went  to  Mrs.  Verulam  she  might 
get  it  from  the  housekeeper,"  said  Marvel.  She  came 
forward  as  she  spoke  in  a  quick  eager  way  until  she  stood 
beneath  the  full  glare  of  a  bracket  lamp.  So  standing,  Mrs. 
Scarlett  raised  her  eyes  and  saw  her. 

An  extraordinary  change  swept  over  her  face.  An  awful 
fear,  mingled  with  a  curious  disbelief,  distorted  her  features. 
She  staggered  away  from  Marvel  with  a  sharp  cry,  and 
leant  against  the  wall  behind  her,  panting,  shuddering. 

"Who  are  you,  girl?  Speak!"  she  cried  hoarsely. 
"  Great  Heaven !  what  horrible  thing  is  this  !  The  dead  ! 
the  dead  !  where  are  they  !  "  She  grew  suddenly  convulsed 
and  reeled  backwards,  clutching  wildly  at  the  empty  air. 
Marvel  sprang  forward  and  caught  her  just  .as  she  fell. 

She  supported  her  tenderly,  and  being  tall,  and,  though 
slender,  strong,  she  lifted  her  in  her  arms,  and  half  drew,  half 
carried  her  to  a  low  lounge  at  the  other  side  of  the  firepiace. 

The  doing  of  all  this,  however,  created  a  rather  unusual 
disturbance,  and  following  as  it  did  on  that  short  but 
piercing  cry  that  came  from  Mrs.  Scarlett,  had  reached 
Wriothesley's  ears,  whose  room  adjoined  Marvel's.  He  was 
just  in  the  act  of  knocking  to  demand  the  meaning  of  it, 
when  Marvel  herself  unlocked  the  door  between  them  and 
entered  his  room.  She  found  him  in  his  shirt  and  trousers 
with  the  end  of  a  cigarette  between  his  lips,  but  she  hardly 
took  any  notice  of  that,  she  was  so  glad  to  find  him  awake 
and  able  to  be  of  service  to  her. 

"  Oh  !  come  in,"  she  said.  She  was  looking  very  much 
upset,  and  indeed,  the  sight  of  that  rigid  form  and  ghastly 
face  within,  stretched  in  a  seemingly  lifeless  state  upon  the 
lounge,  had  unnerved  her  to  a  very  unusual  degree.  Coming 
upon  all  that  had  gone  before  it,  it  was  the  veritable  last 
straw,  and  threatened  to  break,  if  not  her  back,  at  least  her 
courage.  It  was  an  unspeakable  relief  to  find  that  she  was 
not  to  be  left  alone  with  this  new  burden. 

"Come  quickly,"  she  said,  holding  out  her  hand  to 
Wriothesley,  and  flinging  his  cigarette  into  the  fire,  he 
followed  her  into  her  own  room. 


268  MARVEL. 

"  What  is  it  ?  "  he  asked,  and  then  he  saw  the  prostrate 
insensible  figure  upon  the  couch,  and  went  quickly  up  to  it. 

"  She  is  not  dead!"  he  exclaimed  with  great  anxiety,  an 
anxiety  that  seemed  exaggerated  to  his  wife,  who  could  not 
help  watching  him  closely. 

"  Not  that,  I  hope,"  she  said.  She  had  got  some  cologne 
water,  and  was  busily  bathing  Mrs.  Scarlett's  forehead, 
whilst  Wriothesley  in  a  rather  helpless  fashion  was  chafing 
her  hands. 

"  If  one  had  a  little  brandy,"  he  said,  brightening  as  this 
idea  occurred  to  him,  and  dropping  the  inanimate  hands  he 
rushed  off  to  his  own  room. 

"  Oh  !  don't  be  long,"  entreated  Marvel  as  he  passed  by 
her.  He  returned  almost  immediately,  and  between  them 
they  forced  a  little  of  the  spirit  within  Mrs.  Scarlett's  pallid 
lips.  It  seemed  to  revive  her,  and  presently  she  opened 
her  eyes  and  gazed  without  intelligence  around  her.  She 
sighed  faintly ;  memory  seemed  to  come  back  to  her  in  a 
flash,  and  as  it  did  so  her  glance  fell  on  Wriothesley,  who 
was  bending  solicitously  over  her. 

"  You  ! "  she  said. 

"  I  hope  you  are  feeling  better  now,"  said  he  kindly. 
B-it  she  was  still  somewhat  dazed  by  her  late  attack,  and 
d.J  not  seem  to  hear  him. 

"  You ! "  she  said  again,  in  a  low,  anxious  tone,  and  with 
a  smile  that  Marvel  had  never  seen  upon  her  lips  before  ; 
and  yet,  soft  though  it  was,  and  suggestive  of  unlimited 
tenderness,  there  was  more  of  gratified  vanity,  of  exulting 
triumph  in  it  than  honest  affection.  She  raised  her  hand 
feebly  and  held  it  out  to  him.  He  grew  extremely  red,  but 
of  course  he  had  to  take  it. 

"  Lady  Wriothesley  is  here,  and  is  very  anxious  about 
you,"  he  said  as  collectedly  as  he  could,  though  he  knew 
the  very  fact  of  his  warning  her  of  Marvel's  presence  would 
be  rather  damnatory  in  the  latter's  eyes. 

Marvel  came  quickly  forward,  a  rather  indignant  light  in 
her  eyes ;  she  came  close  up  to  where  Mrs.  Scarlett  lay,  so 
that  she  could  distinctly  see  her. 

"  I  am  glad  you  are  better,"  she  said  coldly.  "  Do  you 
think  you  will  still  require  the  chloral,  or " 


MARVEL.  269 

Mrs.  Scarlett  started  violently  when  first  she  spoke,  and 
then  grew  suddenly  quiescent  after  one  long  glance  at  her. 

"  I  had  forgotten  about  it,"  she  murmured  feebly. 

She  made  an  effort  to  rise,  but  Marvel  entreated  her  to 
remain  still. 

"  Your  maid  is  away ;  you  are  still  very  weak,"  she  said  j 
"  I  beg  you  will  make  this  room  your  own  for  the  night." 

"  Oh  no,  thank  you,"  said  Mrs.  Scarlett,  now  rising  with 
determination  to  a  sitting  posture.  "  I  have  already  given 
you  far  too  much  trouble — I,"  she  laughed  faintly,  "  I  don't 
know  what  happened  to  me ;  but  I  felt  curiously  unstrung 
all  the  evening,  and  I  suppose  the  climax  came  as  I  entered 
your  room." 

She  had  studiously  avoided  looking  at  Marvel  ever  since 
that  first  glance  ;  and  now,  as  she  rose  very  slowly,  and  with 
evident  difficulty,  to  her  feet,  and  as  Marvel  put  out  her 
hand  to  help  her,  she  shrank  from  her  touch  with  a  visible 
shudder. 

"  Good-night.  I  thank  you  very  much,"  she  said,  with  a 
striving  after  graciousness  that  proved  a  failure.  She  took 
no  notice  of  Wriothesley,  who  was  deeply  grateful  for  the 
rudeness,  and  moved  towards  the  door  in  a  dull,  heavy 
fashion. 

"  I  really  think  you  are  not  well  enough  to  remain  by 
yourself,"  said  Marvel  hastily,  deep  compassion  awaking 
in  her  gentle  breast.  "  As  your  maid  is  absent,  will  you 
permit  me  to  sit  with  you,  at  all  events  until  you  are 
asleep  ?  " 

"  You  quite  crush  me  with  kindness,"  said  Mrs.  Scarlett, 
with  a  rather  bitter  intonation  ;  "  but,  no." 

"  Then  may  I  wake  one  of  the  servants,  and  send  her 
to " 

"  I  require,  no  one,  thank  you,"  curtly.  "  Good-night. 
Pray  do  not  make  yourself  so  very  unhappy  about  me." 

She  took  the  candlestick  that  Marvel  put  into  her  hand, 
still  without  looking  at  her,  and  then  went  out  of  the  room 
and  up  the  corridor  to  her  own  apartment. 

Marvel  stood  looking  after  her,  oppressed  always  by  a 
vague  sense  of  uneasiness,  until  she  saw  her  cross  her  own 
threshold,  when,  with  a  little  sigh,  she  turned  inwards 


270  MARVEL. 

again  and  closed  her  door.  Wriothesley,  still  without  his 
cvat  or  waistcoat,  stood  on  the  hearthrug,  his  hands  clasped 
behind  his  back,  as  is  the  manner  of  men  when  they  feel  a 
fire  even  from  ai'ar. 


CHAPTER  XLV. 

"  We  two  stood  there  with  never  a  third, 
But  each  by  each,  as  each  knew  well." 

"  WELL  ! "  said  he,  "  I  call  that  about  the  coolest  thing 
that  ever  I  saw!  Next  time  she  is  going  to  have  one  of 
her  fits  or  her  faints,  or  whatever  it  was,  I  hope  she  will 
choose  somebody  else's  room  for  her  stage."! 

Marvel  said  nothing ;  she  felt  a  little  angry.  She  could 
not  forget  the  assured  way  Mrs.  Scarlett  held  out  her  hand 
to  him ;  and  that  subtle  smile  also  lingered  in  her  memory. 
It  was  all  very  fine  for  him  to  appear  disgusted  with  her 

now,  but  there  had  been  a  time  when .  Yet  in  her  soul 

she  was  glad,  because  of  the  slighting  tone  he  used.  He 
was  watching  her  attentively,  and  as  she  seated  herself 
upon  an  ottoman,  he  noticed  the  languor  that  seemed  to 
fill  all  her  limbs. 

"  She  has  frightened  you,"  he  said. 

"  It  was  a  little  shock.  And  I  am  afraid  she  is  really 
very  ill,  she  looked  so  pale." 

"  Not  paler  than  you  are.  Why  on  earth  aren't  you  in 
bed  at  this  hour  of  the  night  ?  Do  you  know  what  o'clock 
it  is  ?  " 

"  No." 

"  Half-past  two — a  most  ridiculous  hour  for  you  to  be 
up!" 

"  I  might  say  that  to  you,"  said  she  with  a  faint  smile. 

"  Eh  ?  Oh  I  /  was  smoking,  and — er — reading.  But 
you  ?  " 

She  made  him  no  answer,  but  sat  silent,  twirling  her 
wedding  ring  round  and  round  her  finger. 

"  What  a  fire  you  have,  too  1  Enough  to  freeze  one  to 
look  at  it." 


MARVEL.  »7I 

He  settled  it  up  for  her  as  well  as  he  could,  and,  after  a 
considerable  amount  of  noise  and  dust,  made  it  rather 
presentable.  She  sat  quite  quiet  all  the  time,  and  was 
indeed  so  white  and  still  that  he  grew  uneasy. 

"You  are  looking  awfully  ill,"  he  said  at  last,  going'over 
to  her  and  laying  his  hand  upon  her  shoulder.  "  What  is 
the  matter  with  you  ?  " 

"  Nothing,"  she  said  with  a  heavy  sigh. 

She  got  up  as  if  to  escape  from  his  hand,  and  moved 
languidly  to  the  toilet  table,  where  she  stood  pushing  idly 
to  and  fro  the  bottles  and  caskets  and  pots  with  which  it 
was  littered.  She  looked  so  unlike  herself  that  he  was 
really  anxious  about  her,  and  followed  her  to  the  table, 
determined  to  accept  no  repulse. 

"  Tell  me  what  you  were  doing  during  all  these  long, 
lonely  hours,"  he  said. 

"  Thinking,"  replied  she  briefly. 

"Thinking  !"  He  repeated  her  words  with  rather  undue 
force.  A  dark  red  mounted  to  his  brow.  "  Of  Savage?" 
he  asked  involuntarily.  He  was  horrified  when  the  ques- 
tion passed  his  lips ;  but  it  was  too  late  then  to  look  for 
anything  but  the  way  in  which  she  should  receive  it.  That 
was  with  the  utmost  indifference.  Evidently  she  had  not 
understood  the  real  meaning  of  it 

"  Oh  no,"  she  said. 

"  Of  what,  then  ?  "  persisted  he. 

"  Of  the  past — the  old  dead  days.  Of  Lady  Mary,  and 
of " 

She  had  averted  her  face,  and  now  her  eyes  fell  upon 
the  locket  she  had  dropped  upon  the  table,  and  with  a 
little  quick  sighing  breath  she  laid  her  hand  upon  it,  as 
if  to  conceal  it,  and  closed  her  trembling  fingers  round  it. 
It  was  her  badge  of  shame — her  disgrace — the  thing  that 
perpetually  reminded  her  that  she  was  a  Pariah,  a  thing 
apart  from  the  world,  in  which  for  a  season  she  moved. 
But  the  little  white  hand  had  been  too  slow  to  do  its 
work.  Wriothesley,  too,  had  seen  that  old  trinket  and  had 
remembered  it.  A  pang  shot  through  his  heart.  With  all 
her  other  griefs  and  regrets,  had  she  to  battle  too  with 
this? 


t7*  MARVEL, 

"  My  dear  girl,"  he  said  very  gently,  "  why  permit  your- 
self such  morbid  meditations  ?  Why  think  of  what  cannot 
now  be  helped,  and  of  what  is  really  of  so  little  conse- 
quence ?  " 

"  I  think  of  it  always,"  she  said.  "  I  never  forget  it— 
how  can  I  ?  " 

"Why  cannot  you?  you  mean.  Here  you  are  respected, 
loved  by  many,  and  the  very  centre  of  attraction,  as  it  were, 
by  right  of  your  grace  and  beauty,  and  yet  you  would  still 
pull  caps  with  fortune." 

"You  will  tell  me  next,  as  Cicely  does,  that  the  very 
mystery  that  surrounds  me  adds  to  that  attraction.  But 
oh !  to  solve  that  mystery,  even  at  the  cost  of  the  attraction. 
You  cannot  understand  what  it  is  to  feel  like  me.  I 
am  different  from  all  those  with  whom  I  move.  They 
have  parents,  homes  ;  they  know  at  least  from  where  they 
sprung ;  but  as  for  me,"  she  drew  her  breath  sharply  and 
looked  at  him  with  miserable,  lovely  eyes.  "  Oh,  the  cruel 
pain  of  it ! "  she  said. 

"You  yourself  create  that  pain,"  he  was  beginning 
warmly ;  but  she  stopped  him. 

"  Do  I  ?  "  she  said  sadly.  "  You  are  kind,  but  there  is 
no  real  truth  in  what  you  say,  and  you  know  it.  Would 
any  man  willingly  choose  me  for  his  wife,  do  you  think? 
No — hear  me,"  checking  the  interruption  he  would  have 
made.  "  Would  you,  do  you  think,  have  ever  married  me 
had  I  not  in  my  mad  childish  ignorance  asked  you  to  do  so, 
and  had  not  you  in  a  moment  of  pique,  a  moment  when 
you  were  broken-hearted,  and  felt  the  world  no  longer 
contained  any  good  for  you — consented.  Fulke,"  laying  a 
burning  hand  upon  his,  "  whatever  else  is  between  us,  let 
there  at  least  be  honesty.  Do  not  seek  to  contradict  what 
1  have  said." 

There  was  indeed  so  much  that  was  true  in  what  she  had 
said,  that  he  could  not  answer  her  reassuringly  as  he  would 
fain  have  done.  He  stood  therefore  silent  before  her,  for 
which  she  honoured  him  the  more.  Yet  her  head  drooped 
during  that  sad  silence,  and  the  mournful  lines  about  her 
mouth  .grew  more  pronounced. 

"  I  am  in  outcast,"  she  said. 


MABVEL.  273 

"Don't  talk  like  that,']  said  he  angrily.  "There  is 
neither  sense  nor  meaning  in  it.  And  as  to  what  you  say 
about  no  man  caring  to  marry  you,  are  you  prepared  to  say 
that  amongst  all  those  men  you  now  know,  there  is  not  one 
who  would  willingly  call  you  wife  ? "  He  regarded  her 
with  a  keen  scrutiny  as  he  asked  this. 

"  Not  one,"  replied  she  slowly. 

Did  she  mean  it,  or  was  she  playing  with  perfect  aplomb, 
a  very  difficult  part  ?  His  eyes  were  still  fixed  upon  the 
pale  beautiful  face,  with  its  downcast  eyes,  and  he  was 
obliged  to  admit  to  himself  that  a  brow  so  pure  could  hide 
behind  it  no  smallest  deceit. 

"You  are  wrong,"  he  said  gently.  "Although  you  so 
distrust  me,  and  although  our  marriage  had  little  of  romance 
about  it,  I  still  am  pleased  with  the  thought  that  /  can  call 
you  wife." 

She  smiled  in  a  rather  abstracted  fashion. 

"  You  were  always  kind,"  she  said.  And  then,  with  a 
singular  abruptness  that  quite  disarranged  the  speech  he 
was  about  to  make,  "  It  is  late.  Good-night." 

"Good-night,"  said  he  in  turn,  startled  into  that 
commonplace  response.  "  As  you  say,  it  is  time  we 
thought  of  our  beauty  sleep."  He  looked  down  as  he 
spoke,  and  by  chance  saw  that  her  hand  was  still  clasped 
nervously  round  that  unlucky  locket.  He  went  closer  to 
her,  took  the  hand  and  with  gentle  force  opened  it. 

"  We  have  had  enough  of  this  for  one  night  at  least,"  he 
said.  "  Better  give  it  into  my  keeping  for  the  future."  As 
he  spoke  he  tried  to  possess  himself  of  the  locket,  but  with 
a  sudden  vehemence  she  clung  to  it. 

"  Do  not  take  it !  I  promised  her — auntie — that  I 
would  never  part  with  it.  Oh  !  Fulke,  do  not  deprive  me 
of  it."  There  was  so  much  fear  in  the  glance  she  raised  to 
his,  that  of  course  he  resigned  all  idea  of  taking  possession 
of  the  locket. 

"  As  you  will,"  he  said.  "  But  at  least  promise  me  that 
you  will  sit  up  no  longer.  These  small,  dark,  uncanny 
hours  are  not  meant  for  children  like  you.  Come,  promise 
me  before  I  go,  that  you  will  be  a  good  little  girl  and  say 
your  prayers  and  go  to  sleep  at  once." 

18 


274  MARVEL. 

He  laughed  as  he  said  this,  and  taking  up  the  locket 
dropped  it  into  her  dressing-case. 

"There  let  it  lie,"  he  said  tragically.  And  then,  "Well, 
have  I  that  promise  ?  " 

"  You  have,"  said  she  smiling.     "  Good-night,  then." 

"  Good-night."  He  had  moved  away  from  her  towards 
his  own  door,  when  some  sudden  impulse  swayed  her. 
She  went  quickly  up  to  him,  and  laying  her  hand  upon  his 
breast  lifted  her  cheek  to  his,  as  a  child  or  a  young  girl 
might  do,  asking  a  caress.  Wriothesley  taken  so  unawares 
flushed  crimson.  He  placed  his  hand  beneath  her  chin 
and  turning  her  face  more  towards  him,  kissed  her  with 
exceeding  gentleness  upon  the  lips. 

"  Good-night,"  he  said  again. 


CHAPTER  XLVL 

*  Escape  me  ? 

Never — 

Beloved ! 

While  I  am  I  and  you  are  you, 

So  long  as  the  world  contains  us  both—- 
Me the  loving  and  you  the  loth, 
While  the  one  eludes,  must  the  other  pursue." 

THE  pleasant  informal  dance  was  almost  at  an  end :  the 
word  "  Carriages  "  had  been  mentioned  once  or  twice,  the 
young  people  pretending  not  to  hear  it.  Early  in  the 
evening  the  Christmas  tree  had  been  lit  in  the  great  hall, 
and  round  it  quite  a  hundred  and  fifty  children  of  all 
sizes  and  ages  and  stations,  from  the  cotter's  son  to  the 
little  lordling,  had  stood  in  speechless  delight.  It  was 
allowed  on  all  sides,  indeed,  to  have  been  a  gigantic 
success,  and  happy  were  the  little  children  of  all  ranks  who 
went  home  that  night  literally  covered  with  toys  and 
bonbons,  satiated  with  excitement,  and  with  every  prospect 
of  being  extremely  unwell  in  the  morning. 

It  ought  by  right  to  have  been  called  a  New  Year's  tree, 
as  it  was  kept  back  until  the  second  week  in  January  to 


MARVEL.  275 

accommodate  the  vicar,  who  was  absent  unavoidably,  and 
who  would  have  broken  his  heart,  according  to  Lady  Lucy, 
if  he  had  not  been  able  to  see  the  delight  on  his  children's 
faces  when  the  unaccustomed  dainties  were  placed  in  their 
little  arms.  Poor  children,  coming  out  of  their  cabins  and 
hovels  and  unlovely  homes  to  gain  this  sweet  glimpse  of 
paradise. 

After  the  tree,  and  the  dispersion  of  the  humbler  guests, 
dancing  had  been  got  up  amongst  the  house  party  and 
those  invited  from  the  country  round  to  witness  the  annual 
bestowing  of  pretty  gifts  upon  the  peasantry  connected 
with  the  estate,  and  those  poorer  ones  who  lived  on  the 
confines  of  it.  It  was  a  fare  veil  dance,  said  Lady  Lucy 
regretfully  to  Marvel,  who  had  really  done  wonders  with 
the  children  all  the  evening,  anl  had  developed  a  perfect 
talent  for  understanding  exactly  what  toy  would  best  suit 
each  child. 

"  A  horrid  farewell  dance  ! "  said  Lady  Lucy.  "  I  really 
wish  you  would  change  your  mind  at  the  eleventh  hour  and 
put  off  going  to-morrow.  Cicely  can't  want  you  much, 
until  her  own  party  is  in  full  swing." 

But  Cicely  coming  up  at  the  moment  and  hearing  this 
was  exceeding  wroth,  and  declared  she  had  Marvel's  word 
to  come  south  with  her  to  her  own  home  and  that  she 
would  not  let  her  off  it  for  any  sister-in-law  in  the  world. 

The  dancing  was  kept  up  very  briskly,  and  was  all  the 
more  enjoyed  in  that  the  dance  itself  was  a  rather 
impromptu  affair.  Nigel  Savage,  as  every  one  remarked, 
was  in  specially  high  spirits,  and  made  himself  absolutely 
charming  to  even  the  old  and  ugly  ones,  who,  as  a  rule,  sat 
in  swooning  attitudes  along  the  walls,  in  tall  straight  rows 
as  unbroken  as  a  line  of  holly  hocks.  But  those  high 
spirits  of  his  bordered  closely  on  despair.  It  was  the  last 
evening  he  would  spend  with  her.  He  might  see  her  again, 
indeed,  his  home  was  situated  but  a  short  distance  from 
Mrs.  Verulam's,  but  he  knew  intuitively  that  Cicely 
would  not  make  him  welcome  at  Grangemore,  and  even  if 
she  did,  he  felt  that  once  broken  the  threads  of  this  one 
short  perfect  month  could  never  be  united  again. 

The  very  thought  of  this  made  him  reckless.  He  asked 

1 8— 2 


276  MARVEL. 

Marvel  to  dance  with  him  far  oftener  than  he  usually 
permitted  himself  to  do,  and  she  did  not  refuse  him.  She 
was  looking  more  than  ordinarily  lovely,  because  she  was 
looking  happy ;  she  had  found  a  very  deep  gladness 
in  the  joy  of  those  little  children,  and  a  solace  in  the 
clinging  of  their  eager  arms.  She  was  the  one  indeed 
amongst  all  the  grand  ladies  whom  they  had  singled  out  as 
their  best  friend,  and  the  one  of  whom  they  were  least 
afraid. 

She  had  not  yet  lost  the  flush  and  the  smiling  lips  that 
their  open  devotion  had  given  her ;  she  was  dressed  in 
white  as  usual,  but  she  wore  no  diamonds  to-night — only 
some  scented  roses  that  lay  upon  her  breast,  and  one  white 
rose  in  her  hair.  There  were  roses,  too,  amongst  the  folds 
of  her  gown,  and  a  bunch  of  them  were  attached  to  her  fan 
— all  white. 

She  was  standing  now  against  the  mantel-shelf — a  tall, 
sweet,  slender  thing — 

"  A  maid  so  sweet  that  her  mere  sight  made  glad 
Men  sorrowing —  " 

when  Savage  once  more  made  his  way  to  her  to  ask  her  to 
give  him  the  dance  then  just  beginning.  Wriothesley,  who 
saw  him  coming,  and  who  stood  near  to  Marvel,  with  a 
quick  frown  went  up  to  her,  and — 

"  Will  you  give  me  this  dance  ?  "  said  he. 

"  I  will  give  it,"  said  she  with  some  surprise.  "  But  for 
married  people  to  dance  together " 

"  I  know.  It  is  an  abomination  in  my  sight  also  ;  but  if 
you  will  waltz  with  me  from  this  down  to  the  door  opposite, 
it  is  all  I  shall  ask." 

"  I  should  be  ungenerous,  indeed,  were  I  to  refuse  so 
slight  a  request,"  said  she  smiling.  She  placed  her  hand 
on  his  arm  almost  as  Savage  came  up  to  her. 

"  You  are  engaged  ? "  said  he,  his  tone  an  astonished 
question. 

"  Yes  !  Did  you,  too,  wish  to  dance  this  with  me  ?  The 
next,  if  you  will  then,"  returned  she  sweetly. 

Wriothesley  coughed  sharply  in  a  little  way  he  had  when 
annoyed,  but  he  said  nothing,  and  presently  his  arm  was 


MAEVEL,  «77 

round  her  waist ;  and,  when  they  came  to  the  prescribed 
door,  he  seemed  to  forget  all  about  his  compact  with  her, 
and  went  on  dancing  until  they  came  to  it  the  second  time. 

"You  dance  exquisitely,"  he  said  then.  "Will  you  come 
into  the  conseivatory  and  rest  awhile?" 

"  No,  thank  you,"  said  she,  with  a  certain  hasty  determi- 
nation. 

"  It  seems  strange,  does  it  not,"  he  went  on,  presently, 
"  that  though  I  have  known  you  all  my  life,  and  though  we 
have  been  married — how  long  ?  " 

"  You  know.     A  year  and  a  half,"  replied  she  coldly. 

"  That  still  this  is  the  first  time  we  have  ever  danced 
together." 

"  Is  it  so  strange  ?  Science  has  made  wonderful  strides 
certainly,  but  it  has  not  yet  arranged  for  the  waltzing  of 
two  people  together  when  one  is  in  England  and  the  other 
in  the  Rocky  Mountains." 

"  Do  you  know,"  said  he,  looking  full  at  her,  "  you  are 
the  biggest  deception  I  know.  A  person  with  your  eyes 
and  mouth  should  not  know  what  it  is  to  be  severe." 

"  I  suppose  even  a  person  with  my  lips  and  eyes  can  be 
taught  severity  by  life's  cruelties.  Yet  I  hate  myself  in 
such  a  mood  as  this  ! "  said  she  with  frank  regret,  turning 
her  beautiful  pathetic  face  to  his.  "  I  should  not  make 
heartless  speeches  on  a  night  when  I  have  been  so  happy. 
Those  little  children  !  did  you  notice  how  glad  they  looked ; 
how  their  eyes  sparkled ;  how  their  little  hands  trembled 
with  delight !  Oh !  it  was  lovely  to  see  them !  Yes,  I  have 
been  quite  happy "  She  paused. 

"  Until  now  ?"  gloomily.  She  turned  her  eyes  on  him,  as 
if  not  understanding,  then : 

"  Oh,  no  !  your  thought  is  wrong.  My  mind  ran  upon 
another  subject  altogether ;  I  did  not  think  of  you,"  said  she 
simply.  "  I  was  only  wondering  if  you  would  let  me  give  a 
Christmas  tree  next  year  to  the  little  ones  on  the  Ringwood 
estate." 

"Z^/  you !  Oh  !  Marvel,  have  I  proved  myself  so  stern  a 
taskmaster  that  you  must  grow  so  red,  and  grow  so  nervous, 
when  making  a  little  request  like  that  Is  not  all  that  I  have 
yours  ?  " 


278  MARVEL. 

"  Not  all,"  she  said  in  a  low,  tremulous  tone  ;  and  then 
suddenly  she  put  up  her  hand  as  if  to  prevent  his  reply. 
"  Not  a  word,"  she  entreated.  "  I  don't  know  why  I  said 
that — there  was  no  meaning  in  it.  None !  I  don't  want 
anything  ! "  Then,  with  painful  shyness,  stammering  over 
each  word  she  uttered  in  her  endeavour  to  get  back  into  the 
safe  harbour  of  commonplace  converse,  "  1  may  then — give 
the  poor — your  poor — a  Christmas  tree  next  year." 

"  You  may  do  precisely  what  you  like,"  replied  he  icily, 
chilled  by  her  evident  shrinking  from  anything  deeper  than 
mere  surface  friendliness  with  him.  "  That  stress  upon  the 
pronoun  was  scarcely  necessary,  I  think.  Surely  they  are 
your  poor  also  ;  you  may  repudiate  me  if  you  will,  but  you 
have  to  acknowledge  their  claims  upon  you." 

She  stood  silent,  her  eyes  cast  down — distressed,  not 
knowing  what  to  say. 

"  It  seems  to  me  that  your  charity  is  boundless  to  all  the 
world — save  me,"  he  went  on,  with  a  supercilious  smile. 
"  Even  to  Savage  just  now  you  granted  grace,  seeing  how 
deplorably  he  regretted  the  loss  of  this  dance.  By-the-by, 
you  have  danced  a  good  deal  with  him  to-night.  I  have  never 
thought  of  asking  the  question  before,  but — is  he  a  very  in- 
teresting sort  of  person  ?" 

He  spoke  as  one  athirst  for  knowledge ;  and  Marvel 
resented  his  tone,  feeling  instinctively  the  falseness  of  it. 

"  I  have  always  found  him  so,"  she  said  calmly. 

"  The  truth,  the  truth,  and  nothing  but  the  truth."  Such 
words  should  be  framed  and  glazed,  and  hung  in  all  men's 
houses.  This  rejoinder  of  Marvel's,  coming  honestly  from 
her  heart,  disconcerted  Wriothesley  (had  she  only  known 
it)  more  than  all  the  elaborated  answers  that  she  could  have 
invented. 

"  So  it  seems."  At  this  moment  the  person  under  dis- 
cussion could  be  plainly  seen  by  both  making  his  way  to 
them.  Wriothesley  had  barely  time  to  say  another  word 
before  he  would  be  within  hearing,  so,  his  temper  not  being 
at  its  best,  he  made  that  word  as  pungent  as  he  could. 

"  Don't  let  him  become  too  interesting  ! "  he  said,  with  a 
rather  unpleasant  intonation,  having  given  himself  barely 
time  to  bow  and  retire  as  Savage  joined  her. 


MARVEL.  475 

Mrs.  Verulam,  from  afar,  had  watched  all  this ;  and, 
though  their  conversation  was  denied  her,  their  counte- 
nances were  not,  and  she  drew  a  very  correct  account  of 
what  had  passed  from  the  lights  and  shades  of  feeling  that 
marked  them. 

"  I  wish  Marvel  had  not  been  educated  in  so  severely 
simple  a  school,"  she  said  to  Sir  George,  who  had  followed 
her  to  her  retreat  behind  the  curtains  of  a  window,  without 
invitation  of  any  sort. 

"  Why  ?  "  said  he  vaguely,  being  busy  polishing  his  glasses 
at  the  moment. 

"  Why  ?  How  stupid  you  are !  Because,  of  course,  if  a 
little  more  alive  to  the  general  run  of  things,  she  would 
know  how  not  to  ruffle  Wriothesley's  feelings  at  every  step." 

"  Ruffling  will  do  him  good,"  said  Sir  George. 

"  That  is  your  opinion.  It  doesn't  follow  that  it  is  a 
correct  one." 

"Far  from  it!"  said  Sir  George,  spreading  abroad  his 
hands  in  the  meekest  self-abnegation. 

"And  yet  I  don't  know — perhaps  you  are  right !"  said 
she  thoughtfully,  touched  perhaps  by  his  humility.  "  Well, 
never  mind  Wriothesley.  He  is  really,  in  my  estimation, 
hardly  worth  an  argument." 

"  Who  is  ?  " 

"  Mrs.  Dameron,  for  example,"  said  she  in  a  tone  of 
withering  disgust.  "  Was  there  ever  so  lamentable  a 
person  ?  Look  at  her !  What  on  earth  has  she  done  to 
her  hair  to-night  ?  Really,  with  a  straw  or  two  thrown  in 
she  would  be  excellent  as  Ophelia  at  her  maddest !  For  my 
part  I  don't  think  she  looks  proper,  eh  ?  " 

"That's  an  awful  question,"  said  Sir  George,  staring  hard 
at  the  despised  Mrs.  Dameron,  who  stood  quite  opposite 
to  him  at  the  other  side  of  the  room  and  who  in  truth 
was  very  marvellously  attired. 

"  Which  means  that  you  are  afraid  to  answer  it,"  said 
Mrs.  Verulam  with  a  shrug.  "  I'm  positive  there  is  a  latent 
fear  within  you  that  some  day  you  will  be  hanged,  and  you 
are  always  providing  against  that  unpleasant  possibility. 
You  live  in  a  determination  not  to  commit  yourself." 

"  What  a  thing  for  you  to  say ! "  exclaimed  he  with  deep 


z8o  MAIIVEL, 

reproach.  "  Why,  I  do  nothing  else  whenever  fortune  gives 
me  five  minutes  alone  with  you.  Even  now  I  followed  you 
here  to " 

"  Yes — what  brought  you  here  ?  "  demanded  she  briskly, 
"  Who  asked  you  to  come  and  sit  here  with  me  ?  " 

"  No  one ;  I  saw  you  alone  and  I  came  to  you.  You  sent 
your  partner  for  a  shawl,  I  think,  and  I  knowing  where  it 
was,  despatched  him  in  an  expressly  opposite  direction. 
He,"  mildly,  "  will  be  a  good  while  finding  it,  I  think." 

Mrs.  Verulam  was  silent,  from  reasons  untold. 

"  I  thought  it  an  excellent  opportunity,"  went  on  Sir 
George  in  his  studiously  even  way,  "  to  ask  you  once  more 
to " 

"  I  do  hope  you  are  not  going  to  begin  that  all  over 
again,"  interrupted  she  with  some  indignation. 

"  I  am  beginning  nothing.     I  am  only  going  on  with  it." 

"Am  I  to  understand,"  exclaimed  she,  wrath  gi owing 
warm  within  her  at  this  persistence,  "  that  you  intend  pro- 
posing to  me  in  every  corner  of  every  room  of  every  house 
we  may  chance  to  enter,  and  behind  every  available  curtain," 
with  a  glance  at  her  present  surroundings,  "until  happy 
death  steps  in  to  save  me  from  you  ?  " 

"  You  have  indeed  discovered  my  fixed  determination  ! n 

"  After  all  that  happened  years  ago  !  After  all  you  pro- 
mised then  !  I  shall  know  how  to  believe  you  next  time." 

"  So  long  as  there  is  a  next  time,"  imperturbably,  "  I  can 
be  happy  about  that." 

"  You  hope  to  torment  me  into  saying  '  yes,' "  with  an 
angry  little  laugh ;  "  but  you  don't  know  me  if  you  think 
so.  I  can  endure  a  great  deal.  I  am  quite  proof  against 
persecution  of  that  sort.  And  besides,  if  the  worst  comes 
to  the  worst,  I  have  a  remedy.  There  is  one  thing  that 
remains  to  me." 

"And  that?" 

"  I  shall  marry  some  other  man." 

"  Impossible  ! " 

"  Impossible  !     But  how  then  ?  " 

"Because  I  shall  always  assassinate  that  man  upon  his 
wedding  morning ! " 

Mrs.  Verulam  for  a  moment  stared,  sternly  at  the  pattern 


MARVEL.  a&i 

in  the  lace  curtain  before  her  and  then  burst  out  laughing. 
She  was  still  indignant,  however. 

"To   think   that   you,  our   scientific   friend,"   she   said 
scornfully,  "  should  give  place  to  such  folly  1 " 


CHAPTER  XLVIL 

*  To  have  the  power  to  forgive 
Is  empire  and  prerogative, 
And  'tis  in  crowns  a  nobler  gem, 
To  grant  a  pardon  than  condemn." 

"  MARVEL,  don't  stand  on  ceremony  with  me,"  began  Mrs. 
Verulam,  herself  standing  on  the  threshold  of  Lady 
Wriothesley's  bedroom  ;  "  the  fact  is,  I  am  not  sleepy,  and 
I  should  dearly  love  a  little  gossip  with  you,  so  if  you  are 
not  too  tired ?  " 

The  pause,  eloquent 

"  Not  too  tired,  but " 

"I  see,"  making  a  little  chagrined  moue;  "that  'but'  is 
fraught  with  meaning.  If  not  tired,  you  would  still  be 
alone,  to  dwell  on  your  latest  triumphs." 

"  You  are  not  such  a  Solon  as  you  believe  yourself,  after 
all.  That  '  but '  of  which  you  complain  was  the  com- 
mencement of  a  much  more  mundane  speech.  I  was 
going  to  make  the  confession,  pur  et  Dimple,  that  I  am 
dreadfully  hungry !  " 

"  Never  say  it  again,"  cried  Mrs.  Verulam  gaily  ;  "  come, 
those  cormorants  of  this  evening  have  no  doubt  left  us 
something  still  upon  the  supper-table.  Let  us  go  a-forag- 
ing." 

"  Well,  I've  been  thinking,"  said  Marvel  glancing  down- 
wards at  the  loose  white  robe  heavily  trimmed  with  duchesse 
lace  that  she  was  wearing,  and  then  up  again  at  Mrs. 
Verulam,  radiant  in  an  exquisite  negligee  of  pale  blue  cache 
mire,  "  that  perhaps  we  had  better  wait  a  bit.  They  may 
not  all  have  gone  to  bed  yet,  and  to  meet  them  like  this  !  " 

"  Would  they  faint  ?  "  asked  Mrs.  Verulam,  who  knew 
how  well  she  looked  in  that  ethereal  blue  and  would  not 


282  MAKVEL. 

have  objected  to  an  accidental  rencontre.  She  laughed  a 
little.  "  Better  they  should  faint  than  that  you  should  die 
of  starvation." 

"  Better  neither.  I  daresay  I  shall  live  on  your  conver- 
sation for  another  half-hour  or  so  until  we  hear  the  click  of 
the  smoking-room  door  and  the  tramp,  tramp,  tramp  up- 
stairs. Come ;  now  for  your  gossip."  She  stirred  the 
fire  vigorously,  pushed  Cicely  into  a  huge  armchair,  and 
flung  herself  on  the  rug  at  her  feet. 

"It  is  small.  It  is  unworthy  of  the  name.  No  big 
scandal  ornaments  it.  It  is  only  a  word  or  two  about  Mrs. 
Scarlett,  and " 

"Then  I  won't  hear  it,"  exclaimed  Marvel  sharply, 
putting  up  her  hands  to  her  ears.  "  I  can't  bear  to  hear  her 
name  mentioned.  It — it  hurts  me  somehow." 

"There,  don't  be  a  goose,"  said  Mrs.Verulam,  patting  her 
head  ;  "  you  needn't  feel  all  that  now  ;  she  can  no  longer 
do  you  any  harm,  her  day  is  past.  Still,  I  don't  wonder 
at  your  dislike  to  her.  I  should  feel  it  myself;  and  for 
that  reason  I  have  decided  on  not  asking  her  to  Grange- 
more  next  month." 

Marvel  got  upon  to  her  knees  and  looked  anxiously  at 
her. 

"  Why  have  you  come  to  that  decision  ?  "  she  said ;  "  you 
asked  her  last  year,  why  should  you  exclude  her  from  your 
party  now  ?  I  hope  you  will  not,  Cicely.  It  will  look  as 

if They  will  all  say  it  is  because  of  Fulke,  and — and  I 

really  do  not  think  he  is  in  love  with  her  now." 

"Oh,  no.  One  can  see  that.  As  I  have  just  been 
saying,  her  star  is  set.  We  were  rather  mistaken  about 
that  at  first.  But  yet  I  do  not  like  to  ask  her,  Marvel, 
when  I  see  how  abominably  she  treats  you." 

"  It  does  not  touch  me  now.  It  used  to,  I  confess,  but — 
not  now."  It  seemed  to  her  that  it  was  a  very  recent 
"  now."  "  Do  not  leave  her  out  because  of  me.  She  will 
be  an  addition  to  your  party  ;  for  one  thing  she  is  so  beau- 
tiful and  so  much  the  fashion,  and  I  have  reason  to  think 
she  expects  and  hopes  for  an  invitation  from  you." 

"  From  me  ?  For  Heaven's  sake  why  ?  I  could  name 
you  five  different  houses  at  this  moment,  very  much  more 


MAKVEL.  28? 

important  than  mine,  where  she  would  be  received  with 
open  arms." 

"  Nevertheless,  I  know  she  would  accept  your  invitation 
before  any  of  the  others." 

"  Still  hankering  after  Wriothesley  ?  I  must  say,  Marvel, 
you  are  either  the  soul  of  generosity,  or  else,"  with  a 
keen  glance  at  her,  "  you  have  made  the  discovery  that 
Wriothesley  at  a  distance  is  more  desirable  than  Wriothesley 
near." 

"  You  mean ?  "  asked  Marvel,  a  little  cold,  a  little 

puzzled.  She  drew  back  from  her. 

"  Nothing,"  said  Cicely  with  a  pang  of  remorse.  "  Don't 
mind  me ;  it  is  only  that  when  that  woman's  name  is  men- 
tioned I  always  lose  my  temper." 

"  Well,  don't  mind  that.  Don't  mind  anything.  Do  not 
thwart  her  in  this  matter.  Do  you  know,"  laying  her  arms 
on  Cicely's  knees  and  looking  up  at  her  with  lovely  solemn 
eyes,  "  I  do  not  think  it  is  Fulke  she  thinks  of  so  much  as 
—me!" 

"  You  !  What  a  conceited  child  !  "  Mrs.  Verul  am  burst 
out  laughing.  "  After  all  I  daresay  you  are  right,"  she 
said.  "  The  deposed  queen  must  naturally  follow,  with  a 
feverish  hope  of  a  breakdown,  the  fortunes  of  the  usurper. 
Well,  your  majesty  shall  be  obeyed ;  I  shall  give  her  the 
desired  invitation  to-morrow." 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Marvel  simply.  "  I  am  glad  you 
have  arranged  it  so.  Cicely,"  regarding  her  earnestly, 
"  has  it  ever  occurred  to  you  that  she  is  very  ill  ?  " 

"  Never.  She  is  too  insolent  for  that.  Lucy  once  hinted 
something  of  the  kind  to  me,  but  I  don't  believe  it." 

"  I  do,  then.  Sometimes  in  the  very  middle  of  her  most 
brilliant  moments  she  seems  to  shrink  into  herself,  and  a 
curious  and  almost  cruel  light  grows  within  her  eyes.  I 
know  it.  I  have  watched  it,  and  I  think  it  is  born  of  pain. 
Oh  !  Cicely,  I  am  sure  that  she  is  suffering  secretly — 
silently ;  that  she  tries  to  hide  the  knowledge  of  her 
suffering  from  the  world." 

"  Well,  so  be  it.  It  would  be  a  pity  to  spoil  a  lomance 
that  interests  you  so  deeply.  But  even  if  true,  I  confess 
I  shouldn't  cry  about  it.  What  are  you  so  solemn  about 


284  MAEVEL. 

•now,  Marvel?  I  do  believe,"  severely,  "you  would  do 
that  false  creature  a  good  turn  if  you  could ! " 

Marvel  pondered  a  while. 

"  I  would,"  she  said  at  last  bravely ;  "  call  me  poor- 
spirited  if  you  will,  but  I  only  wish  I  had  the  chance  of 
doing  it." 

"  Spirit !  You  haven't  a  particle  of  it,"  said  Mrs.  Verulam 
indignantly. 

"  Not  an  atom,  I  often  think.  It  is  strange,  is  it  not, 
that  I  should  so  desire  her  friendship  ?  I  can't  explain  it 
even  to  myself,  and  yet  I  know  I  would  do  anything  to  kill 
this  hatred  with  which  I  have  so  evidently  inspired  her. 
That  curious  fascination  I  felt  on  first  seeing  her,  you 
remember  ?  and  which  I  believed  to  be  a  mere  passing 
emotion  that  would  die  away  on  acquaintance,  has  strength- 
ened rather  than  decreased." 

"You  are  a  dreamer  of  dreams,"  said  Mrs.  Verulam, 
trying  hard  to  be  contemptuous  and  failing.  "And  yet  is 
it  wise  to  strive  so  hard  against  one's  natural  workings  ? 
You  would  be  a  saint,  but  can  you  ?  Is  it  possible  to  '  love 
mine  enemy  ? '  We  all  know  '  The  world  and  life's  too  big 
to  pass  for  a  dream,'  yet  you  would  make  yourself  a  mere 
puppet  in  it — the  world  I  mean — to  be  tossed  to  and  fro 
at  the  whim  of  a  worthless  worldling,  consoling  yourself 
perchance  with  the  thought  that  it  is  all  for  your  soul's 
benefit !  Or  else,  perhaps,  is  it  that  you  would  say : 

'  I  do  these  wild  things  in  sheer  despite, 
And  play  the  fooleries  you  catch  me  at, 
In  pure  rage  ! ' 

For  fooleries  they  are,  darling,  if  you  think  it  your  duty  to 
act  the  Good  Samaritan  to  Leonie  Scarlett" 

"  I  never  knew  you  so  severe  before.  I  have  told  you 
how  I  feel  towards  her,  dear  Cicely,  and  whatever  motives 
you  may  impute  to  me  I  cannot  alter  now.  I  am  no  saint, 
no  angel ;  no  hypocrite  either ! "  She  spoke  the  three  last 
words  in  a  very  low  tone,  and  tears  gathered  in  her  eyes. 

"Oh,  Marvel!  What  a  word  to  use!  If  I  have  hurt 
you,  how  shall  I  forgive  myself  ?  " 

Marvel  laughed  and  blinked  back  the  tears. 


MAKVEL.  285 

"  You  have  not  hurt  me,  you  could  not,"  she  said.  "  I 
understand  you  too  well  for  that.  But  Mrs.  Scarlett,  I 
confess,  is  a  troublesome  subject.  Let  us  forget  her  and 
take  to  something  else.  Sir  George,  for  example.  What 
of  him  ?  I  duly  noted  the  fact  that  you  lost  yourself  with 
him  for  a  considerable  time  behind  the  curtains,  but  I 
could  not  discover  by  mere  scrutiny  if  anything  or  nothing 
came  of  it." 

"  Something,  certainly.  An  unlimited  supply  of  abuse, 
as  applied  by  me  to  him  !  Oh,"  with  a  sigh  of  angry  im- 
patience, "  I  don't  believe  there  is  under  heaven  so  annoy- 
ing a  man." 

"I  believe  at  all  events  that  there  is  no  man  so  well 
suited  to  you,  or  who  loves  you  as  well.  I  believe  also  that 
you  love  him." 

"  Nobody  can  prevent  you,  of  course.  This  is  a  free 
country.  Believe  away  as  hard  as  you  can." 

"  Well,  now  honestly,  what  do  you  think  yourself?  " 

"  If  you  put  it  so,  I  shall  feel  myself  compelled  to  lie. 
When  any  one  says  to  you,  '  Now,  to  tell  you  the  honest 
truth,'  or  '  Well,  to  be  honest  with  you,'  grasp  at  once  the 
fact  that  a  tremendous  tarradiddle  is  about  to  be  poured 
into  your  ears." 

"  Nonsense,  Cicely  !  I  don't  want  to  listen  to  such  put- 
up  trash  as  that.  But  there  is  Sir  George,  and  I  do  think," 
softly  pressing  Cicely's  face  in  her  own  direction  with  her 
little  velvet  palm,  so  that  the  fire-flames  fell  upon  it,  "  that 
sometimes  you  feel  that  he — that  he  is " 

"  Not  at  all.  Not  a  bit  of  it,"  interrupted  Mrs.  Verulam 
with  great  aplomb.  "  You  give  me  credit  for  too  much. 
Some  day  I  shall  seem  to  you  a  disgraceful  defaulter.  Yet, 
with  regard  to  Sir  George,  I  don't  mind  admitting  to  you, 
and  you  only,  that  he  is  the  main  wall  of  the  biggest  enigma 
I  know.  Do  I  like  him  ?  Do  I  dislike  him  ?  Is  he  the 
most  uncompromising  bore  I  know,  or  the  most  entertain- 
ing companion  ?  Do  I  wish  him  dead  ?  or  would  his  death 
be  a  calamity  ?  To  all  these  questions  I  perpetually  tell 
myself  I  have  no  answer  ready.  Yet  there  is  one  thing ;  " 
she  drew  herself  up  into  a  more  likely  posture,  and  smiled 
as  if  amused  at  herself.  "  if  at  any  time  I  miss  him  at  my 


286  MARVEL. 

elbow,  I  confess  I  feel  deeply  wronged  !  Now,  how  account 
for  that  ?  It  is  the  more  difficult,  because  when  he  is  there 
I  invariably  feel  indignant.  Now  what  would  you  make 
out  of  all  that  ?  " 

"  A  conundrum,  of  course,  as  you  suggested ;  and  one 
too  to  which  Sir  George  alone  will  find  the  answer.  Give 
him  the  chance ! "  Her  last  suggestion  was  uttered  in  a 
sweet  voice,  and  one  full  of  entreaty. 

"  Has  he  enlisted  you  in  his  service  ?  If  so,  a  most 
sweet  emissary,"  said  Mrs.  Verulam,  stooping  to  kiss  her 
brow.  "  But,"  gaily,  "  surely  he  has  chances  enough.  He 
is  coming  to  me  next  month." 

"  He  has  stayed  with  you  often  before.  That  means 
nothing." 

"  Say  you  so,  fair  prophetess  ?  Well,  time  works  wonders, 
as  they  tell  us.  Let  us  see  what  this  month  may  bring 
forth ! " 

"  There  goes  the  click  of  the  smoking-room  door,"  cried 
Marvel  suddenly.  "  Did  you  hear  it  ?  No  ?  You  must 
be  deaf  then.  Now  listen." 

And  slowly,  surely,  one  after  one  came  the  measured 
tramp  of  men's  feet  up  the  staircase.  They  could  hear  how 
Geraint  turned  off  there,  and  how  Dameron  went  on  past 
their  door.  How  Wriothesley  entered  the  next  room  and 
there  went  fussing  about  a  good  deal,  and  did  quite  a  tre 
mendous  business  with  the  poker,  so  that  it  might  reason- 
ably be  supposed  that  his  fire  was  now  aglow.  And  then 
suddenly  all  sound  died  away  and  the  house  was  as  calm 
as  though  death  alone  instead  of  eager  life  reigned  in  it. 

"  Come  now,"  said  Marvel,  who  was  standing  at  the 
open  door  to  make  sure  that  the  last  footsteps  had  indeed 
died  away.  "  Now  we  may  venture." 

They  stole  downstairs  on  tiptoe  and  entered  the  supper- 
room,  gaunt  and  deserted  and  lampless,  but  it  was  only  the 
work  of  a  moment  to  transform  it  once  more  into  a  chamber 
of  light.  They  lit  the  lamps  in  fact  and  drew  their  chairs 
up  to  the  table,  and  in  spite  of  the  depredations  of  the 
former  visitants  made  themselves  out  an  excellent  supper. 
They  were  still  laughing  and  chatting  over  it  when  the  door 
opened  and  Nigel  Savage  came  in. 


MARVEL.  087 


CHAPTER  XLVIII. 

*  I  shall  go  my  ways,  tread  out  my  measure, 

Fill  the  days  of  my  daily  breath 
With  fugitive  things  not  good  to  treasure, 

Do  as  the  world  doth,  say  as  it  saith  ; 
But  if  we  had  loved  each  other — O  sweet, 
Had  you  felt,  lying  under  the  palms  of  your  feet, 
The  heart  of  my  heart,  beating  harder  with  pleasure 
To  feel  you  tread  it  to  dust  and  death." 

HE  looked  pale,  haggard  and  altogether  as  miserable  as  a 
man  might  be.  The  smile  he  conjured  up,  when  with  a 
start  he  awoke  to  a  sense  of  their  presence,  was  both  strained 
and  unhappy. 

u  Why.  I  thought  you  were  all  in  bed,"  cried  Mrs.  Verulam, 
half  rising  from  her  chair. 

"  The  rest  may  be,  I  am  not,"  returned  he  lightly.  "  I 
am  a  wakeful  soul  at  all  times.  Sleep  is  coy  with  me 
and  eludes  me,  many  a  night  and  oft.  So  oft  indeed  that  I 
sometimes  dread  to  woo  her ;  so  to-night,  a  happy  fear,  as 
it  has  once  more  brought  me  into  your  company."  He 
smiled  more  naturally  as  he  said  this,  yet  as  he  concluded 
what  ought  to  have  been  the  most  cheerful  portion  of  the 
speech,  he  sighed  heavily. 

"  That  most  unlovely  of  all  passions,  hunger,  brought  us," 
said  Mrs.  Verulam  gaily ;  "  but  what,  may  I  ask,  drove  you 
at  such  an  hour  to  the  '  deserted  banquet  hall  ?  ' ' 

He  looked  in  a  degree  embarrassed,  and  hesitated,  as  one 
might  who  was  about  to  arrange  an  answer  that  would  be 
far  from  the  truth,  when  kindly  fate,  in  the  shape  of  Mrs. 
V srulam's  maid,  saved  him  from  "  ye  readie  lie  "  that  was 
now  prepared  to  trip  with  lightness  from  his  tongue. 

"  Madam,"  whispered  the  maid,"  a  note  from  Sir  George ;" 
he  said  it  was  to  be  delivered  immediately.  It  is  in  your 
room.  I " 

"  Very  good,"  whispered  her  mistress  sedately,  "  you  can 
go."  But  then  she  went  too,  leaving  Marvel  and  Nigel 
Savage  alone  in  the  half-lit  oak-panelled  dining-room. 

"  Well,"  said  Marvel  lazily,  looking  up  at  him,  "  what  did 
bring  you  ?  "  She  had  come  over  to  the  resuscitated  fire 


288  MAKVEL. 

and  was  leaning  back  in  the  depths  of  a  huge  armchair,  eat 
ing  slowly  and  with  evident  pleasure  some  crystallized  fruit 
she  had  carried  away  from  the  table.  Her  pretty  loose  gown 
clung  softly  to  her  figure,  and  half  her  rounded  arms  were 
bare.  She  was  a  little  fatigued  after  the  dancing  and  genera! 
exertions  of  the  evening,  and  this  had  thrown  a  suspicion  of 
languor  into  her  beautiful  eyes.  To  Savage  she  had  nevei 
before  looked  so  lovely,  and  a  very  passion  of  despair  and 
regret  awoke  within  him.  For  himself,  in  that  the  love  of 
his  life  was  bound  to  wither  and  die  without  hope  of  fruition, 
without  touch  of  gladness;  for  her,  because,  he  believed  her 
unbeloved,  uncared  for,  a  pearl  thrown  to  one  who  knew 
not  the  value  of  gems.  It  seemed  to  him  a  cruelty  that 
cried  aloud  for  vengeance  and  redress,  that  this  priceless 
thing  should  be  for  ever  tied  to  one  who  saw  not  her  per- 
fections, whilst  there  was  another  who  would  have  thought 
himself  only  too  blessed  if  permitted  to  lay  his  very  life  at 
her  feet. 

There  was  a  very  keen  sense  of  the  hopelessness  of  all 
things  as  he  stood  now  looking  down  upon  her  with  the 
knowledge  full  upon  him  that  perhaps,  indeed  in  all  human 
probability,  it  was  for  the  last  time.  He  had  known  for  a 
good  while  that  he  must  go,  and  to-night  had  decided  him. 
He  would  leave,  and  at  once.  He  could  no  longer  trust 
himself  to  stay  with  her  and  be  silent.  He  had  quite 
determined  to  guard  his  secret  to  the  last — to  take  it  away 
with  him  so  that  she  might  never  know,  although  there  was 
a  vehement  desire  within  him  to  tell  her — to  let  her  know 
the  strength  of  the  love  with  which  she  had  inspired  him. 

And  now — now,  as  he  gazed  on  her,  lo !  all  his  good 
resolutions  faded  and  died  from  him,  and  only  his  wild 
sorrow  and  his  craving  to  speak  aloud  the  love  that  was  con- 
suming him  remained. 

"Well,"  said  she  again,  as  she  finished  the  last  of  her 
sweetmeats  and  cast  a  little  side  glance  at  the  table  as  if  to 
see  if  there  were  any  more,  "  you  don't  tell  me  how  it  was 
you  came  in  here  ?  " 

Her  innocent  persistence  and  the  lovely  playful  smile 
she  gave  him  did  away  with  the  last  remnant  of  righteous 
determination  left  to  him. 


MARVEL.  289 

"  Must  I  tell  you,  really?"  he  asked, -in  a  tone  that  was 
slightly  unsteady.  Something  in  his  manner  warned  her, 
and  she  glanced  up  quickly. 

"  Not  if  you  don't  wish  it,"  she  said,  with  a  soup  f  on  of 
haste  in  her  air. 

"  I  do  wish  it,"  said  he  defiantly.     "  I  came — for  this  ! " 

He  went  over  to  a  chair  that  was  pushed  back  against  the 
wall,  pulled  it  out,  and  picked  up  from  the  floor  behind  it  a 
white  rose,  faded  now,  but  sweet  still  and  exhaling  a  per- 
fume that  seemed  to  be  part  of  Marvel  herself.  And  so 
indeed  it  was,  a  part  she  had  let  fall  during  a  minute  or  two 
when  she  had  paused  in  the  supper-room. 

"  You  dropped  this,"  he  said ;  "  it  was  difficult  to  pick  it 
up  when  all  the  rest  were  looking  on,  but  I  threw  it  there 
and  watched  and  waited  until  the  house  slept,  as  I  believed, 
to  come  and  rescue  it." 

He  spoke  with  a  certain  carefulness  even  yet,  but  the  fire 
in  his  eyes  and  voice  broke  through  all  bonds  and  betrayed 
him  to  her.  She  rose  abruptly  to  her  feet,  her  face  whiten- 
ing. 

"  Nigel  I "  she  said.  Her  voice  trembled ;  it  was  such  a 
disastrous,  such  a  terrible  discovery  to  her,  that  words  failed 
her ;  a  sense  of  loss  too  was  with  it.  His  friendship,  upon 
which  she  had  so  fondly  relied,  where  was  it  now  ?  Gone ; 
swallowed  up  in  the  fierce  torrent  of  this  overwhelming 
passion. 

"  You  are  surprised,"  he  said  with  a  short  laugh  that  was 
miserable  enough  to  bring  tears  to  her  eyes.  "  I  have 
successfully  deceived  you  all  along,  have  I  not  ?  You 
have  trusted  in  me  as  the  calm,  agreeable  friend  to  whom 
you  could  turn  when  troubles  assailed  you.  You  were 
almost  sorry  for  me  when  paltry  gossip — as  shortsighted  as 
it  was  contemptible — insisted  that  my  mild  friendship  was 
but  another  name  for  love,  but  now — you  know  !  " 

He  spoke  with  an  open'  defiance,  as  though  glorying  in 
her  blindness  ;  his  black  eyes  gleamed  and  his  nostrils  were 
slightly  dilated. 

"  What  do  you  call  me  now  ? "  he  went  on,  as  though 
passion,  long  repressed,  drove  him  hither  and  thither  as  it 
willed.  "  A  traitor  ?  One  who  purposely  misled  and  deceived 

iq 


290  MAKVEL. 

you  ! "  He  had  been  speaking  with  a  fierce  impetus,  but 
now  it  failed  him  suddenly,  and  his  voice  sank.  "  Is  this 
to  be  the  end  of  it,"  he  said,  "  that  you  are  to  remember  me 
only  with  scorn  and  hatred  ?  Oh,  Marvel ! "  He  fell  at 
her  feet  and  took  a  fold  of  her  gown  in  his  hands  and 
pressed  his  lips  to  it  convulsively. 

The  girl  stood  motionless  as  if  turned  into  stone,  shocked, 
horrified,  hardly  yet  believing !  It  was  a  hateful  revelation, 
that  left  her  bare  of  one  good  friend  upon  whom  she  would 
have  staked  much,  and  she  was  unable  for  the  moment  to 
realize  the  anguish  that  lay  crouching  at  her  feet. 

"  Marvel !  "  he  said  again,  in  a  low  stifled  tone ;  and  still 
no  word  of  comfort,  no  hope  of  pardon,  came  from  her.  A 
long  awful  minute  swept  by  in  absolute  silence,  and  then 
again  he  spoke  : 

"  You  have  judged  me,  and  condemned  /"  he  said  faintly, 
still  with  his  face  hidden  in  her  gown.  "  It  is  just,  perhaps, 

but "  A  heavy  sigh  escaped  him,  that  rose  and  reached 

her  ears.  Suddenly  the  floods  of  pity  that  always  lay  close 
to  her  gentle  heart  broke  loose  ;  she  bent  down  over  him 
and  with  her  slender  hands  tried  to  raise  him  to  his  feet. 

"Oh!  no,  no!"  she  whispered  brokenly.  "Oh,  Nigel! 
it  is  a  miserable  thing,  but  perhaps  you  could  not  help  it." 

The  simplicity  of  this  little  speech  went  to  his  very  soul. 
No,  he  could  not  have  helped  it. 

"  Darling,  beloved  ! "  he  said  with  a  wild  sob  or  two,  and 
caught  the  tender  healing  hands  and  pressed  them  to  his 
lips. 

"  You  must  not  speak  like  that,"  she  said  anxiously,  bend- 
ing over  him  and  releasing,  after  a  moment,  one  of  her  hands 
from  his,  the  other  he  clung  to  with  a  desperate  longing. 
"You  forget.  Do  not  kneel  there,  dear  Nigel,  but  get  up 
and  listen  to  me." 

He  rose,  obedient  to  her  word,  and  stood  before  her,  with 
his  head  down-bent,  as  if  ashamed  of  the  emotion  it  betrayed. 
He  still  held  her  right  hand,  as  though  he  could  not  bear 
to  part  with  it,  and  she,  of  her  goodness,  did  not  seek  to 
withdraw  it  after  that  one  first  effort.  -He  held  those  pretty 
fingers  pressed  close  within  his  own,  as  though  by  means  of 
them  he  might  still  keep  near  to  her  who  seemed  to  him 


MAEVEL.  291 

an  angel  sent  down  from  the  blue  sky  above  him,  nor  for 
his  joy  but  his  undoing. 

She  began  to  speak  again,  this  time  more  slowly,  and  with 
a  tremulous  accent. 

"  Surely  you  do  not  remember,"  she  said,  "  how  it  is  with 
me?" 

"  That  is  what  I  do  remember !  that  is  what  has  driven 
me  to  this  !  You  would  tell  me  that  you  are  a  woman  with  a 
husband,  to  whom,  therefore,  all  other  spoken  love  save  his 
is  but  an  insult ;  but  are  there  no  exceptions  10  a  cold  rule 
like  that  ?  If  I,  loving  you  as  I  do,  and  if  he,  loving  you 
not  at  all " 

"Oh!  hush!"  she  breathed  faintly,  but  he  would  not 
listen;  the  storm  of  his  desire  had  caught  him  now  in  all 
its  fury,  and  was  hurling  him  along. 

"  Do  you  still  believe,  in  such  days  as  these,  that  however 
a  man  may  neglect  a  woman  she  should  still  be  loyal  to  him, 
because  a  few  most  senseless  words  have  been  read  over  their 
heads  ? — that  she  should,  for  that  cause  too,  cast  aside  as 
unworthy  all  other  love,  however  sacred,  however  earnest 
it  might  be?" 

He  paused  and  looked  at  her  eagerly. 

"  Yes,"  said  Marvel,  in  a  soft  sweet  voice,  "  that  is  what 
I  do  believe." 

"You  cling  to  the  traditions  of  your  ch:ldhood,"  cried 
he  impatiently ;  "  what  you  then  learned  seems  to  you  still 
to  be  all  that  is  best  and  right.  Have  you  never  a  fuller 
vision?  Is  it  not  possible  to  you  to  imagine  something 
broader,  more  lifelike,  than  this  dull  programme  you  have 
arranged  for  yourself  ?  " 

He  looked  at  her  eagerly,  with  an  impassioned  air  and  a 
vague  touch  of  impatience.  Marvel  stood,  hesitating  as  it 
seemed  to  him,  as  he  hoped — but  in  truth  her  silence  had 
only  to  do  with  a  desire  to  answer  him  as  her  heart  and 
honest  sense  of  right  dictated.  She  lifted  her  head  presently 
and  looked  fair  at  him,  no  embarrassment  in  her  lovely  eyes. 

"  I  think,"  she  said  gently,  "  that  a  woman  should  respect 
herself.  That  when  a  name  is  given  into  her  keeping,  no 
matter  in  what  circumstances  " — with  a  sad  flushing  of  the 
earnest  brow — "  she  should  guard  it  as  a  sacred  trust." 

IQ — 2 


•92  MARVEL. 

"  You  mean  that  it  is  your  duty  to  respect  and  guard  the 
honour  of  a  man  who  deliberately  and  wilfully  neglects 
you  ?  " 

"  You  grow  too  personal,"  she  said,  still  very  gently,  but 
with  some  dignity.  "  I  have  said  that  a  woman  should  re- 
spect, not  her  husband  so  much  as  herself" 

"And  at  the  same  time  break  her  heart,  and  that  of  the 
man  who  truly  loves  her  !  and  all  for  what  ?  Is  life  so  long 
that  we  can  let  the  best  of  it  go  by,  for  the  sake  of  a  mere 
empty  shell  called  respectability;  must  we  be  ever  'the 
galley-slaves  of  dreary  forms  ? '  Here,  on  this  hand,  is  one 
who  hardly  cares  whether  you  live  or  die,  and  here  " — he 
drew  closer  to  her — "  is  one  who— Marvel !  you  know  what  I 
would  say  !  There  are  other  lands,  other " 

"  Stay,  do  not  speak ;  do  not,  I  entreat  you,"  cried  she 
sharply,  as  if  in  bitter  fear.  She  raised  her  hands  to  cover 
her  ears,  and  then,  as  if  unable  longer  to  control  herself,  she 
burst  into  tears.  "  Ah  !  was  it  indeed  true  that  HE  cared 
not  whether  she  lived  or  died  ?  how  terrible  a  thought  ! 
Alas  !  why  could  not  she  die  if  that  was  all  he  wanted  ?  " 

At  this  moment  Mrs.  Verulam  re-entered  the  room.  She 
glanced  first  at  Marvel  in  tears  and  then  at  Savage,  white 
and  wretched,  and  a  rather  dismayed  expression  came  into 
her  eyes. 

"  What  is  this  ?  What  has  happened  ?  "  she  asked,  turn 
ing  indignantly  to  Savage. 

"  It  is  nothing,  nothing  indeed  ! "  said  Marvel  miserably ; 
"  it  is  only  my  own  folly." 

"On  the  contrary,  my  fault,"  interrupted  Savage  gloomily. 
"  I  said  something  to  Lady  Wriothesley  that  annoyed  her- 
I  am  not,  however,"  doggedly,  "  sorry  that  I  said  it." 

"  Then  you  ought  to  be,"  said  Mrs.  Verulam  angrily. 
"  What  on  earth  could  it  have  been,  to  reduce  her  to  this 
state  ?  " 

"  I  told  her  I  loved  her,"  said  he  sullenly.  Then  he  went 
up  to  Marvel  "I  wish  you  wouldn't  cry  like  that,"  he 
said  angrily — "I  wish  I  were  dead  rather  than  have  made 
you  cry,  and  you  know  it  I  If  you  have  any  humanity  in  you 
stop/" 

He  was  indeed  as  white  as  death  as  he  spoke,  and  even 


MARVEL.  293 

Mrs.  Verulam,  who  was  very  angry  with  him,  could  not 
doubt  but  that  it  was  honest  emotion,  born  of  however 
wrong  a  cause,  that  made  him  so. 

"  I  think  you  had  better  make  up  your  quarrel  as  quickly 
as  you  can,"  she  said  impatiently.  "  A  little  more  of  this, 
and  the  day  will  begin  to  break.  Marvel,  say  good-night  to 
Mr.  Savage,  and  come  upstairs  with  me.  You  can  punish 
him  in  the  morning,  if  you  will." 

"  There  will  be  no  morning  for  that  sort  of  thing,"  said 
he  mournfully.  "  I  shall  have  left  this  by  dawn.  I  was 
about  to  bid  Lady  Wriothesley  farewell  when  you  came  in." 

"  You  are  going  ?  "  said  Marvel. 

"  Yes,  for  ever !  "  He  looked  with  haggard  entreaty  into 
Mrs.  Verulam's  eyes.  "  If  I  might — if  you  would  let  me 
be  alone  with  her  for  even  three  minutes,"  he  said. 

Cicely  hesitated,  and  then  gave  in.  After  all  three 
minutes  out  of  the  rest  of  his  lifetime  was  not  much  to 
grant.  She  went  silently  out  of  the  room  and  closed  the 
door  behind  her. 

"  You  are  really  going  ?  I  shall  lose  my  friend,"  said 
Marvel,  deep  sadness  in  her  tone.  All  things  seemed  to 
be  deserting  her. 

"  Not  if  you  wish  it  otherwise,  if "     She  put  up  her 

hand. 

"  Let  our  last  words  be  such  as  I  shall  care  to  remember," 
she  said  brokenly. 

"  Tell  me,"  said  he,  taking  her  hand  and  speaking  as  if 
with  difficulty.  "I  know  it  already,  yet — cruel  as  the 
longing  is — I  do  long  to  hear  it  from  your  own  lips.  You 
— have  never  loved  me  ?  " 

She  hesitated,  and  grew  so  miserable,  that  he  certainly 
knew  it  then,  if  not  before. 

"  Dear  Nigel,  as  a  friend,  I  do  indeed  dearly  love  you," 
she  said  nervously.  "  But " 

"  No ;  no  more.  It  is  needless,"  he  checked  her  ab- 
ruptly. "  Good-bye,"  he  said,  taking  both  her  hands  in  his  ; 
"  God  bless  you."  He  bent  over  them,  and  kissed  them 
vehemently.  He  seemed  lost  in  grief,  and  the  tears  were 
running  down  her  cheeks,  when  a  sound  behind  them  made 
both  start. 


294  MAEVEL. 

Wriothesley  was  standing   in  the   middle   of  the  room 
gazing  at  them,  profound  disgust  in  his  expression  ! 


CHAPTER    XLIX. 
u  My  first  thought  was,  he  lied  in  every  word." 

u  Disdain  and  scorn  ride  sparkling  in  her  eye, 
Despising  what  they  look  on." 

THE  disgust  gave  way  presently  to  a  curiously  unpleasant 
smile. 

"  Are  you  going  ?  "  he  said  to  Savage,  who  came  towards 
him.  "  Pray  don't  let  me " 

"Can  you  give  me  a  few  moments  ?"  said  Savage,  some 
agitation  in  his  tone. 

"Certainly;  though  if  you  could  make  it  one  I  should 
feel  grateful." 

They  were  outside  in  the  hall  now,  and  closed  the  door 
of  the  supper  room,  so  that  Marvel  might  not  hear. 

"  Well,"  he  said  harshly.  He  found  a  strange  difficulty 
in  speaking  at  all,  as  passion  was  fast  getting  the  mastery  of 
him.  He  was  conscious  of  a  dangerous  longing  to  take 
this  man  by  the  throat  and  shake  the  very  life  out  of  him. 
But  he  knew  that  it  would  hardly  do  to  make  a  scene  here 
and  at  this  hour,  and  strove  hard  to  control  himself.  He 
would  save  from  blighting  touch  of  scandal  if  he  could,  not 
her  indeed — she  was  not  worth  it — but  the  old  good  name. 

".I  am  leaving  England — Europe — for  an  indefinite  time. 
I  start  to-morrow,"  began  Savage  hurriedly.  "  Just  now  you 
witnessed  my  farewell  to  her.  You  know  I  love  her. 
But,"  he  was  speaking  very  disconnectedly,  "  I  feared  from 
what  you  saw  that  you  might  misinterpret — might  think — - 
that  Lady  Wriothesley  entertained  for  me  anything  warmer 
than  the  most  ordinary  friendship." 

He  stopped,  hopelessly  embarrassed.  It  was  indeed  the 
clumsiest  thing,  and  Wriothesley  put  it  from  him,  as  it 
were,  with  an  insulting  gesture,  and  a  short  laugh. 

"  Not  I,"  said  he.     "  That  Lady  Wriothesley  should  do 


MARVEL.  995 

you   the  honour  to  esteem  you  above  the  crowd?     No! 
Believe  me,  you  flatter  yourself,  sir,  most  vainly." 

He  ran  his  eye  contemptuously  over  Savage  from  his 
head  to  his  heel.  His  whole  air  was  so  studiously  insolent 
that  Savage  in  turn  felt  his  wrath  grow  hot  within  him.  His 
eyes  flashed,  and  the  colour  forsook  his  lips,  but  Wriothesley, 
as  though  disdaining  further  converse  with  him,  went  back 
into  the  supper  room  and  deliberately  shut  the  door  in  his 
face. 

Marvel  was  still  standing  on  the  hearthrug,  her  hand- 
kerchief to  her  eyes,  crying  softly  but  miserably.  The  sight 
of  her,  so,  maddened  Wriothesley.  A  very  demon  of  rage, 
and  shame,  and  disappointment  shook  him.  He  leant  over 
the  back  of  a  chair  and  stared  at  her  with  eager  gloomy 
eyes,  and  a  cruel  little  sneering  smile  curled  his  lip. 

"  Quite  right,  my  dear,"  he  said  slowly.  "  Better  cry 
now  than  later  on.  I  congratulate  you  on  the  common 
sense  that  kept  you  from  running  away  with  him." 

Marvel's  hand  trembled  a  little,  but  she  did  not  look  up 
or  change  her  position  in  any  way. 

"  I  have  no  doubt  you  think  now  you  have  reached  the 
very  lowest  depths  of  grief,"  he  went  on  in  the  same 
sneering  tone.  "  But  is  it  really  necessary  you  should  shed 
such  torrents  of  tears  ?  Is  it  good  enough  ?  The  loss 
of  that  rather  brigand-like  lover  of  yours  is  of  course  a 
severe  one,  but  you'll  get  over  it.  And  let  me  assure  you, 
that  humdrum  and  prosaic  as  a  respectable  life  with  me 
must  appear  after  the  brilliant  career  he  offered  you,  still  it 
will  be  a  life  that  will  pay  you  better  in  the  long  run  than 
— er — that  other ! " 

If  he  thought  to  see  her  shrink  from  him  after  this 
abominable  speech,  hurt,  angry,  wounded,  he  found  himself 
immensely  mistaken.  She  came  from  behind  her  hand 
kerchief  indeed,  and  threw  up  her  head  with  a  pretty  proud 
movement.  She  came  a  few  steps  closer  to  him  and  looked 
him  full  in  the  face  with  large  indignant  eyes. 

"  You  are  a  very  vulgar  person,"  she  said,  in  her  clear 
distinct  voice. 

He  was  quite  as  surprised  as  though  she  had  given  him 
a  little  blow.  The  sneering  demon  vanished  from  his  face, 


296  MAEVEL. 

and  a  great  weariness  took  its  place.  He  looked  suddenly 
older,  worried,  and  hopeless,  and  coming  from  the  back  of 
the  chair,  dropped  languidly  into  the  seat  of  it. 

"  I'm  tired  of  it  all,"  he  said. 

"Tired  of  me,  you  mean,"  said  she  with  some  spirit. 

"  Be  that  as  it  may,  I  confess  I  want  now  to  be  done 
with  the  whole  thing.  You  are  unhappy  with  me  ;  I  am — 
not  happy  with  you."  He  made  the  little  subtle  difference 
in  the  two  meanings  apparent  to  her  by  the  slight  pause. 
"  Let  us  come  to  some  decision." 

"You  mean  a  separation."  She  pressed  her  lips  hard, 
and  hated  herself  passionately  at  the  moment  because  of 
the  tears  she  fought  so  wildly  to  subdue.  She  stood  before 
him  trembling,  angry,  in  a  miserable  despairing — yet  so 
lovely,  so  sweet — a  thing 

"  That  was  whiter  than  thistle-down," 

that  he  hardly  dared  trust  himself  to  look  at  her,  lest  his 
righteous  rage  should  cool  within  him. 

"  Not  a  formal  one,"  he  said.  "  For  Heaven's  sake  let 
us  not  be  town-talk  for  the  amusement  of  our  friends. 
Vulgar  as  you  deem  me,"  with  a  slight  frown,  "I  would 
carefully  avoid  that.  But  I  see  no  reason  why  we  should 
annoy  each  other  with  these  perpetual  scenes,  and  with  the 
presence  of  each  other." 

"I  don't  see  how  you  are  going  to  manage  it — just  at 
present,  at  all  events.  You  are  coming  with  me  to  Cicely's, 
are  you  not  ?  " 

"Certainly  not.  I  shall  cancel  that  engagement.  You 
can  go  your  way  for  the  future,  and  I  shall  go  mine.  I  have 
had  quite  enough  of  this  sort  of  thing.  I  don't  care  about 
spending  the  rest  of  my  life  watching  you  weeping  over  your 
farewells  to  your  lovers." 

"  Take  care ! "  said  she  in  a  low  voice. 

"  Why  ?  Can  you  deny  he  loves  you  ?  That  he  told  you 
so,  and  more — more"  His  brow  grew  black  again. 

"If  he  does  love  me,  is  no  reason  why  you  should 
address  me  in  such  a  tone.  I  could  not  prevent  that — 
misfortune.  It  was  no  fault  of  mine.  I  had  nothing  to  do 
with  it" 


MARVEL.  297 

"  Of  course  not  No  woman  ever  yet  had.  It  is  the 
regulation  answer.  However,  let  that  pass.  The  real 
matter  at  issue  is,  that  I  shall  cease  to  worry  you  with  my 
presence.  I  shall  accompany  you  and  Cicely  as  far  as  town 
to-morrow,  and  then  run  across  to  Paris  or  somewhere." 

"  A  charming  arrangement  for  you,  no  doubt,  but  what  of 
me?" 

"  You  can  go  where  you  will.  You  have  apparently  hosts 
of  dear  friends  who  will  gladly  welcome  the  new  fashionable 
beauty  " — with  a  bitter  smile — "  to  their  houses.  Whenever 
you  tire  of  them,  or  whenever  you  want  me  to  get  you  out 
of  another  dilemma,  such  as  that  '  lock-up '  affair,  you  can 
drop  me  a  line."  He  was  as  good  as  his  word.  In  the 
morning  he  accompanied  them  to  town,  saw  them  into  the 
train  that  would  take  them  down  to  Grangemore,  and  bid 
them  a  calm  farewell  upon  the  platform.  It  was  all  a 
surprise  to  Cicely,  and,  at  the  first  knowledge  of  it,  a  regret ; 
but  after  a  while  she  began  to  regard  it  as  a  salutary  move- 
ment, and  consoled  herself  with  the  reflection  that  absence 
has  been  very  often  proved  the  most  beneficial  of  medicines. 


CHAPTER  L. 

"If  you  loved  me  ever  so  little, 

I  could  bear  the  bonds  that  gall, 
I  could  dream  the  bonds  were  brittle  : 
You  do  not  love  me  at  alL" 

Six  weeks  of  silence  between  them  followed.  Whether 
Wriothesley  was  in  Paris  or  Timbuctoo  was  unknown  to 
Marvel.  February  had  come  and  gone,  bringing  its  sweet 
promise  of  opening  buds,  and  leaving  that  promise  ful- 
filled. March  had  come  in,  in  the  orthodox  way,  with  the 
roar  of  a  lion  enraged,  but  after  a  day  or  two  had  subsided 
into  the  tamest  of  animals,  and  was  now  all  smiles  and  sweet- 
ness, to  Mrs.  Verulam's  deep  satisfaction,  as  her  house  party 
had  arrived,  and  it  is  difficult  to  know  what  to  do  with  the 
women  portion  of  it  when  wintry  winds  do  blow. 

Marvel,  who  had  a  positive  talent  for  slipping  into  her 


298  MARVEL. 

clothes  and  looking  lovely  in  an  incredibly  short  space  ot 
time,  had  just  finished  her  dinner  toilette,  and  going  down- 
stairs in  the  rather  joyless,  emotionless  manner  that  had 
characterized  her  of  late,  made  her  way  into  the  inner  draw- 
ing-room that  communicated  with  the  larger  reception-room 
by  means  of  hanging  curtains.  It  was  a  smaller  room,  and 
cosier,  and  to-night  she  felt  chilled  and  disinclined  for  the 
lively  chatter  in  which  she  usually  held  a  high  place.  She 
was  indeed  fast  developing  into  a  brilliant  creature  made  to 
be  copied  and  admired,  though  at  heart  she  was  still  the 
tender  loving  child  who  held  affection  for  and  from  the 
beloved  object  the  supremest  good  on  earth. 

She  sank  with  a  thankful  sigh  into  a  low  lounging  chair, 
and,  in  the  soft  twilight  of  a  glorious  fire,  gave  herself  up  to 
thought.  She  was  dressed  as  usual  in  a  white  clinging  gown 
of  lace  and  satin,  that  rose  close  to  her  throat,  but  left  all 
her  lovely  arms  naked  to  the  shoulder.  She  had  raised 
them  and  thrown  them  behind  her,  so  that  her  head  could 
rest  upon  the  palms  of  her  joined  hands. 

The  firelight  shone  upon  her  thoughtful  face  and  played 
amongst  the  soft  locks  that  grew  in  a  riotous  confusion  on 
her  forehead.  She  had  stretched  herself  in  happy  antici- 
pation of  no  disturbance,  and  one  daintily-shod  foot  was 
lying  crossed  over  the  other,  and  both  were  peeping  from 
beneath  the  ivory  satin  of  her  skirt,  that  the  rays  from  the 
glowing  pine  logs  set  gleaming.  She  made  an  exquisite 
picture  lying  thus  in  her  white  robes  with  her  shining  eyes 
filled  with  a  certain  melancholy.  White  was  the  colour  she 
loved  best,  the  colour  her  auntie  had  ever  chosen  for  her. 

"  Do  you  always  wear  white  ?  "  Wriothesley  had  said  to 
her  once.  "  One  would  think  you  had  vowed  yourself  to 
some  saint,  some  order." 

She  remembered  those  words  now,  and  was  dwelling  upon 
them  with  a  half-regretful  feeling  that  she  had  not  so  been 
vowed  in  her  earlier  infancy,  when  she  looked  up  and  saw 
Wriothesley  push  aside  the  heavy  velvet  curtains  and  come 
towards  her. 

"  Well,  you  see  I  have  come  back ! "  he  said  with  a 
rather  awkward  laugh. 

She  sprang  to  her  feet,  and  stood  looking  at  him  with 


MARVEL.  299 

parted  lips  and  breath  that  came  and  went  with  a  glad 
haste.  The  melancholy  disappeared  from  her  eyes,  and 
with  a  movement  of  frank  and  childish  pleasure  she  held  out 
both  hands  to  him. 

"  Why—"  she  said,  "  why—"  and  that  was  all.  There 
was  no  real  meaning  in  the  foolish  word,  and  yet  a  world  of 
meaning.  He  did  not  dare  to  read  it  as  it  was,  or  he  would 
have  clasped  her  to  his  heart  and  prevented  many  an  after 
sorrowful  hour  ;  he  only  took  her  hands  and  bent  over  them 
and  kissed  them  warmly  twice. 

He  was  in  his  hunting  things,  and  was  rather  splashed 
about  the  boots,  but  he  looked  very  big  and  strong  and 
handsome,  and  a  little  small  sense  of  possessive  gladness 
warmed  her.  He  was  hers  at  least,  no  matter  how  things 
went.  No  other  woman  could  call  him  husband.  He  was 
smiling,  as  if  pleased  with  his  reception,  and  the  well-sized 
patch  of  mud  that  adorned  the  tip  of  his  left  ear  did  not  in 
her  opinion  detract  from  his  appearance.  She  would  have 
given  anything  to  be  able  to  stand  on  tiptoe  and  rub  it  off, 
however,  but  she  felt  that  she  could  not  do  it  without  a 
consciousness  that  would  have  rendered  the  act  unpardon- 
ably  awkward. 

She  withdrew  her  hands  and  sat  down  once  more  in  her 
chair.  Wriothesley  drew  up  another  and  seated  himself 
opposite  to  her  on  the  hearthrug ;  both  looked  hard  at  the 
fire,  as  though  intent  on  warming  themselves,  and  altogether 
it  was  a  veritable  Darby  and  Joan  sort  of  a  picture,  taken 
from  a  superficial  glance  at  it.  But  already  that  awkward- 
ness she  so  dreaded  was  descending  upon  them  ;  and  that 
first  kind  touch  of  nature  was  dying  beneath  an  irrepressible 
restraint. 

"  I  did  not  know  you  were  here — in  the  country,"  she 
said  at  last  in  a  rather  uncertain  tone. 

"  I  suppose  not.  I  ran  down  to  the  Carringtons  yesterday, 
and  after  a  capital  run  to-day  found  myself  close  to  the 
Grange,  so  I  thought  I'd  look  in  for  a  moment  to  see  how 
you  and  Cicely  were  getting  on." 

He  spoke  with  quite  a  severe  assumption  of  indifference, 
and  naturally  it  angered  her. 

"  It  was  so  good  of  you,"  she  said  with  a  little  icy  smile. 


300  MARVEL. 

"  But  how  foolish  to  come  so  late.  How  will  you  be  back 
in  time  for  their  dinner  ?  It  is  quite  a  quarter  past  eight,  I 
should  think,  now." 

He  pulled  out  his  watch  and  looked  at  it. 

"  By  Jove !  so  it  is.  I  expect  I  had  better  be  on  the  move 
again,"  he  said;  but  he  did  not  rise  from  his  seat. 

"  If  you  will  dine  here "  she  began  coldly. 

"  Oh  no,  thanks — not  for  the  world.  They  will  be  expect- 
ing me  at  Carringtons.  It — er — isn't  much  of  a  ride  there, 
and  they  don't  dine  to-night  till  nine." 

"  It  is  quite  six  miles,"  she  said  severely. 

"  I  suppose  you  want  to  get  rid  of  me,"  rising  at  last  with 
a  short  laugh.  "  Well,  I'm  glad  to  have  seen  you  looking 
so  well,  and,"  emphatically,  "  so  happy  I  Good-night." 

He  held  out  his  hand. 

"  You  are  wrong.  I  shouldn't  mind  if  you  sat  there  all 
night,"  she  said  quickly,  "  and  at  least  you  will  let  me  give 
you  a  cup  of  tea."  She  touched  the  bell  near  her,  and  as  a 
servant  entered  gave  him  some  directions.  "As  to  my 
looking  well  and  happy,"  she  said  resentfully,  "  did  you  wish 
it  otherwise  ?  And  don't  you  think  you  are  looking  very 
well  yourself?" 

Too  well !  she  told  herself  as  she  watched  him  through 
the  shadows.  If  he  had  looked  even  a  little  pulled  down, 
she  could  have  felt  more  amiably  disposed  towards  him ; 
but  to  sneer  at  her  for  her  good  looks  when  he  himself  was 
the  very  personification  of  health  and  spirits,  was  just  a 
little  too  bad. 

"  I  never  felt  better,  certainly,"  replied  he  coolly. 

After  this  there  was  a  considerable  pause.  Wriothesley 
leaning  forward  on  his  seat,  with  his  elbow  on  his  knee  and 
his  hand  stroking  his  moustache,  stared  moodily  into  the 
fire.  Marvel,  finding  a  tray  placed  ready  to  her,  busied 
herself  pouring  out  a  cup  of  tea. 

"  Do  you  take  sugar  ? "  she  asked,  more  as  a  means  of 
breaking  the  unpleasant  silence  than  from  a  want  of  know- 
ledge. 

"  Good  heavens  !  We  have  been  married  for  a  year  and 
a  half,  and  don't  you  know  that  yet  ? "  said  he,  with  un^ 
reasonable  irritation. 


MARVEL.  501 

"  You  do  ?  "  waiting  with  sugar-tongs  upraised. 

"  I  do." 

"Here  is  your  tea,"  she  said  a  second  later,  standing 
beside  him,  tall,  pale,  and  slender,  in  the  fire-beams. 

"Thank  you."  He  started  slightly,  not  knowing  she 
was  so  near,  and  took  the  cup  from  her,  and  laid  it  on  the 
rug  at  his  feet.  "  How  strange  you  look  in  that  white 
gown,"  he  said ;  "  like  a  bride  or  a  dead  girl.  Did  I  speak 
roughly  to  you  ?  I  don't  know  why  it  is  that  one  so  soft 
and  young  and  pale  as  you  can  have  such  power  to  irritate 
me.  I  am  always  hurting  you,  it  seems  to  me.  That 
night  we  were  last  together,  you  remember  ?  I  have  been 
sorry  about  that  many  times.  I  would  have  written,  saying 
so,  but  I  could  not  be  sure  that  you  would  care.  Would 
you  ?  " 

He  took  the  little  slim  hand  that  hung  by  her  side,  and 
that  was  covered  with  rings — she  loved  them  for  their  beauty 
as  a  child  might — and  pressed  it  gently.  He  waited  eagerly 
for  her  answer,  with  such  a  decided  eagerness  indeed  that 
it  awoke  in  her  one  of  those  strange  perverse  moods  that 
poor  human  nature  is  ever  heir  to. 

"  Not  much,"  she  said  with  a  mutinous,  if  lovely,  glance 
at  him  sideways  out  of  her  expressive  eyes. 

"  Ah  !  "  said  he.  He  let  her  hand  go,  took  up  his  cup 
and  drank  his  tea  hurriedly.  He  was  bitterly  offended. 

"  See  a  word,  how  it  severeth  1 
Oh,  power  of  life  and  death 
In  the  tongue,  as  the  Preacher  saith  I " 

He  took  no  more  notice  of  her,  as  she  stood,  frightened 
now,  and  grieved  for  her  hardness ;  but  pushing  back  his 
chair,  he  straightened  himself  as  a  man  will  before  taking 
his  departure. 

"  Please  tell  Cicely  I  am  sorry  not  to  have  seen  her ;  but 
I  fear  I  cannot  afford  another  moment.  Good-night,  good- 
bye." 

"Not  good-bye,"  faltered  she  penitently;  "you  are  so 
close  to  us,  and — Fulke,"  in  a  very  small  voice,  "  I  didn't 
mean  that.  I — I  would  have  cared." 

"  Is  that  the  truth,  my  dear  ?  "  said  he  very  sadly,  "  or 


302  MAKVEI* 

was  that  other  answer  it  ?  Who  shall  say  ?  "  He  lifted  her 
face  with  his  hand,  and  looked  earnestly  at  it  in  the  firelight. 

"  Oh,  do  believe  what  I  now  say,"  entreated  she  in  a 
choked  tone.  "I  don't  know  why  I  said " 

"Well,  I'll  try,"  said  he.  He  stooped  and  kissed  her 
cheek,  and  a  moment  later  was  gone. 

Almost  as  he  left,  Cicely  entered  the  room  by  another 
door. 

"  What  are  you  doing  here,  you  foolish  person,  in  the  dark, 
and  all  by  yourself?  I've  sought  you  'upstairs  and  down- 
stairs and  in  my  lady's  chamber,'  all  to  no  avail.  Come 
out  of  this  Cimmerian  gloom  into  the  '  higher  lights ; '  the 
others  are  all  in  the  rose  room." 

"  I  have  not  been  so  alone  as  I  seem.  I  have  been  giving 
Fulke  his  tea." 

"  Fulke  ! "  She  feigned  her  surprise  very  well,  the  fact 
being  that  she  knew  of  Wriothesley's  intended  visit  to  the 
Carnngtons,  and  was  only  now  a  little  amused  that  he 
should  have  put  in  an  appearance  here  quite  so  soon.  It 
augured  well,  she  thought,  for  Marvel's  future. 

"  Bad  halfpennies  are  always  safe  to  turn  up  again,"  she 
said,  with  a  tilt  of  her  pretty  nose.  She  had  taken  to 
abusing  Wriothesley  of  late.  "  One  might  have  known  he 
would  not  leave  us  long  in  peace  undisturbed.  Did  you 
have  tea  with  him  ?  "  peering  into  the  second  cup.  "  Pouf ! 
what  a  madness,  to  chance  the  spoiling  of  a  good  dinner 

for  the  sake  of  showing  courtesy  to  one  who Well,  at 

all  events,  I  hope  you  had  a  long  spoon ;  when  one  sups 
with  the  devil,  one " 

"  Fulke  is  not  exactly  a  devil,"  said  Marvel,  with  a  touch 
of  reproach  in  her  manner. 

"  True.  He'd  be  more  endurable  if  he  were !  The  luke- 
warm ones  of  the  earth,  the  half  and  halfs,  are  the  truly 
contemptible.  As  he  happens  to  be  in  the  neighbourhood, 
however,  I  suppose  I  had  better  write  and  ask  him  to  recon- 
sider his  refusal  to  lend  us  the  light  of  his  countenance  for 
a  week  or  two.  Eh  ?  " 

"  As  you  will,"  said  Marvel,  with  studious  indifference. 

"As  you  will,  rather.  I  thought  you  were  anxious  to 
prove  to  your  friends  that  you  felt  no  emotion  at  seeing  him 


MARVEL.  303 

and  Mrs.  Scarlett  en  tete-a-tete  every  day  and  all  day  long. 
However,  if  you  object  to  his  coming,  why  say  so,  dearest 
child,  and  your  wish  shall  be  law.  Not  for  worlds  would  I 
ask  him  here,  if  his  coming  were  to  cause  you  any  unpleasant- 
ness." Her  eyes  were  laughing,  and  Marvel  knew  she  was 
insincere  in  her  sympathetic  protestations. 

"  It  will  not  cause  me  unpleasantness,"  she  said  demurely, 
whereupon  Cicely  laughed  aloud. 

"  You  are  a  hypocrite,"  she  said.  "Take  care  lest  I  punish 
you  by  withholding  that  invitation  I  spoke  of." 


CHAPTER  LI. 

"  When  I  take  the  humour  of  a  thing  once,  I  am  like  your 
tailor's  needle, — I  go  through." 

EVEN  now,  well  into  the  middle  of  boisterous  March  as  it 
was,  the  weather  still  maintained  a  smiling  face.  To-day 
was  almost  warm,  if  one  contrasted  it  with  those  of  a  fort- 
night ago.  There  was  a  perfume  of  primroses  in  the  air, 
and  delicate  fern  fronds  were  beginning  to  peep  in  shaded 
corners  of  the  shady  woods. 

Mrs.  Verulam,  who  had  disposed  of  most  of  her  guests  by 
sending  the  women  to  look  after  the  men  who  had  gone 
shooting  in  the  early  part  of  the  morning,  stood  at  the 
window  of  her  summer  parlour,  and  at  last,  emboldened  by 
the  sweetness  of  the  view  without,  flung  the  casements 
wide,  and  leant  out  to  enjoy  the  keen  flower-scented  air. 

The  wind  that  had  howled  all  night  was  now  dead.  It 
had  dropped  perhaps  behind  the  great  purple-tinted  hills 
beyond  that  overhung  the  placid  ocean,  and 

"  Only  there  sighed  from  the  pine-tops 
A  music  of  sea  far  away." 

It  was  a  delicious  day,  she  told  herself,  and  the  sense  that 
she  was  alone  to  enjoy  it  rather  added  to  its  charm.  She 
was  tired  of  entertaining  people,  she  thought ;  and  for  on*e 
to  be  able  to  sit  silently  and  drink  in  the  cool  freshness 
of  this  king  of  days  was  a  real  joy. 


304  MARVEL. 

Just  as  she  had  come  to  this  conclusion  she  heard  a  step 
behind  her.  She  turned  impatiently  to  find  herself  face  to 
face  with  Sir  George  Townshend.  Good  heavens  !  Was 
she  never  to  escape  this  man  ?  She  threw  up  her  hands 
with  quite  a  pathetic  appeal. 

"  You  ?  Is  it  to  be  always  you  ?  "  she  said  in  a  tone  of 
despair. 

"  Well,  I  hope  so,"  replied  he.  "  What  did  you  expect  ? 
That  I  should  turn  into  somebody  else  ?  You  wouldn't 
like  me  to  do  a  low  trick  like  that,  would  you  ?  A  conjuror 
may  be  a  most  agreeable  person,  I've  no  doubt,  but  not  the 
sort  of  creature  with  whom  you  would  like  to  link  your 
fate,  eh  ?  " 

"That  is  quite  a  remarkable  speech,"  coldly.  "You 
surely  don't  expect  me  to  follow  it.  What  I  want  to  know 
only,  is  why  you  are  not  at  Lydon  Spinney  with  the 
others." 

"  I  was  afraid  to  trust  myself  with  a  gun  when  Castle- 
rock  was  of  the  party.  I  felt  it  would  be  certain  to  go  off 
of  its  own  accord  the  moment  the  muzzle  was  pointed  in 
his  direction.  And  I'm  not  sure  the  time  for  such  an  act 
is  ripe.  By-the-by,  as  we  are  on  the  subject,  you  may  as 
well  tell  me  now  when  I  am  to  blossom  into  the  full-blown 
murderer  ?  " 

Lord  Castlerock,  who  was  staying  at  Grangemore,  had 
been  very  assiduous  in  his  attentions  to  its  pretty  mistress 
for  the  past  ten  days ;  and  though  Sir  George  was  by  no 
means  jealous  of  him,  he  thought  it  as  well  to  let  her  know 
he  was  not  blind  to  his  meaning,  and  that,  in  fact,  he  quite 
understood  all  about  it. 

0  Never,  I  hope,"  she  said,  looking  back  at  him  from  the 
open  window  that  led  to  the  verandah  without — a  window 
that  framed  her  in  and  made  a  pretty  picture  of  her  in  her 
furs  and  laces.  "  You  are  quite  obnoxious  enough  as  you 
are." 

"Nevertheless,  I  only  wait  to  hear  you  name  your 
wedding-day  with  Castlerock,  to  fall  upon  him  and  hack 
him  in  pieces." 

"  You  will  be  free  from  crime  of  that  sort  for  a  long  time 
if  you  wait  to  hear  that" 


JIAEVEL.  305 

"  You  cannot  deny,  however,  that  he  intends  prostrating 
himself  at  your  feet  at  the  earliest  opportunity.  I  can  see 
it  in  his  eye  all  to-day  and  yesterday.  And  there  is 
Bellingham  also.  He  is  going  the  same  road." 

"  I  shouldn't  care  if  there  were  twenty  of  them  all 
travelling  together.  At  least  they  will  have  the  grace  to 
take  their  '  No,'  and  be  done  with  it."  This  with  a  glance 
of  scorn.  "It  is  very  foolish  of  them,  no  doubt,  but  it 
will  not  make  me  uncomfortable." 

"  It  will,  I  think.  To  turn  away  twenty  broken-hearted 
men,  one  after  the  other,  will  be  a  wearying  of  the  flesh  to 
you.  Now  if  you  would  marry  me,  you  see  there  would  be 
an  end  of  all  that  sort  of  thing." 

"  And  the  commencement  of  a  worse !  Besides,"  im- 
patiently, "  have  I  not  just  told  you  (only  you  never  will 
listen  to  a  word  I  say)  that  I  have  no  objection  to  men 
making  themselves  ridiculous  about  me.  They  are  sure  to 
do  it  about  something  or  other,  so  it  may  just  as  well  be 
me.  And  it  adds  a  little  zest  to  one's  life.  Now  if  I  were 
mad  enough  to  marry  you,  or  any  one,  all  that  would  be 
at  an  end." 

"  Why  should  it  ?  I'll  bind  myself  in  the  settlements  to 
propose  to  you  regularly  the  first  Monday  in  every  month, 
and  then  you  won't  have  anything  to  regret." 

"  Pshaw  !  "  said  she,  rising  abruptly,  as  if  disgusted  with 
his  frivolity. 

"Won't  it  do?  Every  Monday  in  every  week  then. 
There,  that's  a  noble  offer,  if  you  like  ! " 

She  stepped  out  on  to  the  verandah. 

"  When  people  cannot  talk  sense  they  should  not  talk  at 
all,"  she  said,  and  moved  away  from  him,  past  the  creepers 
that  clung  to  the  balustrades,  to  the  most  distant  seat  that 
the  sheltered  verandah  held.  He  instantly  picked  up  a 
low  American  cane  chair,  and  dragging  it  leisurely  behind 
him,  came  up  to  her  with  the  little  creaking  noise  it  made, 
and  seated  himself  as  close  to  her  as  circumstances  would 
permit — with  all  the  air  of  one  who  was  settling  down  for  a 
nice  long  cosy  chat. 

"  Now  that  is  one  of  the  many  points  on  which  we  are 
both  so  entirely  agreed,"  he  said  comfortably ;  "  and  that 

20 


3^6  MAEVEL. 

is  why  I  am  always  so  careful  to  talk  nothing  but  the 
severest  sense." 

No  answer. 

"  Well,  and  when  am  I  to  polish  off  Castlerock  ? "  he 
asked  presently. 

"  My  dear  friend,  if  you  must  talk  your  usual  inanities, 
please  let  them  be  in  English  that  may  be  '  understanded 
of  the  people.' " 

"  As  you  despise  my  flowers  of  speech,  so  be  it.  When, 
then,  are  you  to  marry  Castlerock  ?  " 

"  Nonsense !  You  should  know  me  a  little  too  well  for 
that.  What  on  earth  should  I  do  with  Castlerock  ?  Why 
should  I  (who  have  determined  not  to  risk  my  happiness  a 
second  time)  marry  a  great,  stupid — er — podgy  sort  of  man ! " 

"  Podgy !  That  is  "an  excellent  word,"  said  he  reflec- 
tively, "  for  Castlerock.  Now  if  you  object  to  podginess, 
why  not  marry  me  ?  I  am  long,  and  lank,  and  lean  enough 
in  all  conscience  to  suit  the  most  aesthetic  taste.  And  as 
for  stupidity,  if  you  really  have  an  aversion  to  that  which 
raises  you  far  above  your  fellows,  why — there  you  are ! " 
throwing  out  his  hands  expansively.  "All  the  world  knows 
what  a  brilliant  creature  I  am  ! " 

"  It  is  sufficient  for  me,  what  I  know  of  you,"  replied  she 
coolly.  And  then  she  murmured  some  little  speech  that 
had  the  word  "  obstinate  "  in  it,  and  another  word  too.  "  I 
am  not  going  to  marry  you  either,"  she  said  presently. 

"  Well — perhaps  not  just  this  moment,"  said  he  plea- 
santly, "  the  day  is  rather  far  advanced."  He  drew  a 
little  nearer  to  her  and  watched  t  he  rapid  movement  of  her 
fingers  for  a  minute  or  so.  "  What  are  you  doing  ?  "  he 
asked  curiously. 

"Knitting — or  at  least  trying  to,"  impatiently.  "But 
how  can  I  remember  the  stitches  when  you  talk  so  much  ? 
It  is  a  new  pattern,  and  still  puzzles  me.  Do — do  try  to  be 
silent,  if  only  for  a  little  while." 

"  I  shall  be  silent  for  ever  after  if  you  will  only  have  me. 
But  so  long  as  you  keep  on  refusing  me,  I  must  of  course 
go  on  asking  you." 

"  I  wonder  you  aren't  ashamed  ! "  exclaimed  she  sud- 
denly, laying  down  her  work  to  gaze  at  him  with  open  scorn. 


MAUVEI*  307 

"Of  what?" 

"  Of  going  on  like  that." 

"  Like  what  ?  " 

"A  spoiled  child  asking  for  a  sugar  plum  he  mustn't 
have  ! " 

"  I  am  glad  you  regard  yourself  in  such  a  pleasant  light 
— though  '  sugar  plum,'  I  confess,  is  not  the  word  /  should 
have  applied  to  you." 

"  I  did  not  mean  it  for  myself,"  blushing  faintly ;  "I 
was  merely " 

"  Drawing  a  little  figure  for  my  instruction,  I  know.  But 
bitters  now  would  be  nearer  to  it,  eh?  That  name  would 
suit  you  better.  And,  at  all  events,  it  would  suit  me 
better;  more  stimulating,  not  so  nauseating.  And — why 
can't  I  have  my  bitters?" 

Here  Mrs.  Verulam  maintaining  a  dignified  silence,  Sir 
George  edged  a  little  nearer  to  her  still. 

"  That  is  abominable  work  you  are  doing,"  he  said,  fixing 
his  eyeglass  firmly  in  his  eye  and  staring  at  the  work,  in 
question  over  her  shoulder  with  a  critical  gaze.  "One, 
two,  three  ;  one,  two,  three ;  one,  two,  three,  four.  Why, 
any  one  would  think  you  were  learning  the  piano  all  over 
again." 

"  I  am  learning  nothing,"  cried  she  in  despair,  laying 
down  the  hopeless  knitting  on  her  knee  and  turning  on  him 
a  wrathful  countenance.  "You  have  put  me  out  now 
irretrievably  with  your  silly  counting.  I  really  wish  you 
would  either  go  away  altogether  (that  would  be  far  the  best 
plan),  or  else  be  quiet  for  even  a  short  while." 

"  I  have  just  told  you,"  seienely,  "  that  you  have  only  to 
say  one  little  word  and  I  will  be  quiet  for  ever." 

Mrs.  Verulam  pushed  back  her  chair  and  rose  majesti- 
cally to  her  feet.  There  was  the  light  of  a  stern  resolve 
upon  her  brow. 

"  George,  you  have  conquered ! "  she  said  in  a  low, 
but  awe-inspiring  voice,  "  I  shall  marry  you,  if  only  to  be 
revenged  upon  you." 

Sir  George  got  up  instantly.  He  stretched  out  his  long, 
sinewy  arms  and  gave  himself  a  mighty  shake.  A  smile 
illumined  his  melanchely  countenance. 

2O — 2 


308  MARVEL. 

"It  would  have  saved  a  considerable  deal  of  valuable 
time  and  argument  if  you  had  come  to  that  wise  decision 
two  years  ago,"  he  said. 

"  Mark  my  words,  however,  you  will  live  to  rue  this  day." 

"  If  I  do  I'll  tell  you  about  it.  In  the  meantime,  I  have 
your  promise  ?  " 

"  Yes.  I  hope,"  petulantly,  whilst  trying  not  to  smile, 
"you  are  satisfied  now?" 

"  I  am  the  happiest  man  on  earth.  Come,"  tucking  his 
arm  within  hers,  "  let  us  go  for  a  stroll  round  the  garden." 


CHAPTER  LII. 

In  one  brief  sentence  all  my  sorrows  dwell." 

THEY  were  dragged  from  their  garden  of  Eden  about  an 
hour  later  by  the  early  return  of  some  of  the  shooting 
party.  She  went  to  meet  them  in  the  charming  inner  hall, 
where  they  stood  talking  and  laughing  and  warming  them- 
selves by  the  great  fires  in  the  stoves  whilst  tea  was  being 
brought  to  them.  Cicely  came  upon  them,  accompanied 
by  Sir  George,  and  with  a  little  radiant  air  ;  and  Marvel,  who 
was  quick  to  read  the  signs  of  joy  or  grief  in  the  eyes  of 
those  she  loved,  saw  at  once  that  something  had  happened 
to  her. 

She  took  advantage  of  a  moment  when  Mrs.  Verulam 
stood  rather  apart  from  the  rest  to  go  up  to  her  and  whis- 
per softly : 

"  Is  it  so,  then  ?  " 

"  Who  shall  guard  a  secret  from  thee,  oh  thou  marvellous 
one ! "  returned  Cicely  gaily,  but  with  a  little  tremor  in 
her  voice  that  meant  much.  Then  some  of  the  others  drew 
near  again,  and  Marvel,  with  a  smile  of  tenderest  sympathy, 
moved  away. 

She  was  sincerely  glad  at  heart,  joyful  indeed  for  her 
friend's  •  sake,  yet  never  as  at  this  moment  had  she  felt  so 
entirely  lonely.  She  escaped  after  awhile  from  the  merry 
crowd  and  wandered  aimlessly  into  one  of  the  smaller 
that  opened  off  the  library. 


MAKVEL.  309 

Here  despair  seized  upon  her.  The  happiness  of  another, 
though  it  had  her  warmest  sympathy,  yet  opened  up  to  her 
the  wretched  poverty  of  her  own  existence.  She  was  no- 
thing, nobody,  an  unloved  wife,  a  creature  without  known 
parentage.  She  stood  in  the  window,  gazing  mutely  out 
on  the  fast  darkening  gardens  and  gave  herself  up  to  the 
gloomy  misery  of  the  moment. 

All  the  world  was  happy ;  she  alone  was  debarred  life's 
choicest  gifts.  What  hope  could  there  be  for  such  as  she  ? 
Even — oh,  most  improbable  of  suppositions — even  were  she 
to  gain  her  husband's  love,  the  mournful  fact  that  the  story 
of  her  birth  was  wrapped  in  mystery — that  in  all  probability 
it  contained  all  the  elements  of  the  most  shameful  shame 
— would  come  between  them  always. 

In  their  very  sweetest  moments,  when  his  lips  lay  on 
hers,  would  he  not  still  remember  that  the  woman  who  bore 
his  old  and  honoured  name  was  herself  nameless,  that  the 
mother  of  his  children  was  herself  far  worse  than  mother- 
less ?  Then — then  he  would  shrink  from  her.  Oh,  the 
bitterness  of  it !  Only  a  week  ago  that  pale,  smiling 
enemy  of  hers — that  woman  whom  once  he  had  so  loved — 
had  whispered  such  a  hint  into  her  ears — had  in  subtle 
words  warned  her  that  so,  and  for  such  reasons,  in  their 
very  fondest  hours,  he  would  shrink  from  her  as  from  a 
creature  loathed. 

Instinctively  she  put  up  her  hand  and  drew  the  locket 
from  her  neck  and  gazed  as  if  fascinated  upon  the  pale, 
cynical  features  hidden  within  it.  At  this  moment  she 
believed  she  would  have  bartered  all  her  wildest  hopes,  nay, 
life  itself,  to  learn  the  secret  those  dead  lips  could  tell,  to 
know  the  truth  as  it  was,  bare  and  undisguised.  For  what 
cruel  thing  can  be  deadlier  cruel  than  suspense  ? 

A  long,  long  sigh  rose  from  her  burdened  heart.  It 
seemed  to  her  so  little  a  thing  that  she  desired.  Not 
wealth,  not  fame,  not  a  high  and  honourable  ancestry ; 
only  a  name.  And  the  very  lowest,  the  very  poorest 
had  that !  And  the  very  lowest,  the  very  poorest  name 
would  do  for  her ;  she  craved  no  more.  Not  position,  or 
a  high  sounding  title ;  nothing  but  the  assurance  that  she 
was  honestly  born.  Yet  this  small  boon  was  denied  her  ! 


jio  MARVEL. 

Alas  !  was  she  never  to  know  content  ?  Cicely  had 
gained  all;  she  could  not  doubt,  having  once  looked  into 
her  radiant  eyes,  that  having  given  in  and  broken  down  the 
wall  of  determination  she  had  built  against  a  second  mar 
riage — that  now  she  was  roaming  in  a  realm  where  perfect 
bliss  held  sway.  A  great  envy  rose  within  her,  envy  that 
did  not  hurt  her  friend,  but  that  rebelled  against  the  differ- 
ence betwixt  Cicely's  fate  and  hers.  She  would  not  have 
had  Cicely  descend  to  her  poor  level,  but  she  would  fain 
have  risen  to  hers.  It  was  all  so  unequal.  Where  was 
justice,  or  mercy,  or  that  hope  that  keeps  our  souls  alive  ? 

She  started  violently  as  a  hand  was  laid  upon  her  shoul- 
der, and  another  hand  seized  upon  that  fatal  locket  and  took 
it  forcibly  from  her. 

"  Brooding,  as  usual,  over  the  irrevocable,"  said  Wriothes- 
ley  angrily.  "  Good  gracious !  what  a  senseless  woman 
you  are.  Can  you  not  grasp  the  fact  that  what  is  is, 
and  that  not  all  the  protestations  and  bemoanings  in  the 
world  can  alter  it.  I  shall  destroy  that  talisman  of  yours 
some  day ;  it  works  you  only  evil."  He  flung  the  locket 
from  him  as  he  spoke  on  to  the  middle  of  the  table  nearest 
him.  "  So  let  your  forebodings  go,"  he  said. 

"  They  cling  too  fast  for  that,"  returned  she  with  a  sad 
smile. 

"  Come  out  of  this  cold,  uncomfortable  room.  See,  the 
fire  is  quite  dead.  No  wonder  you  have  worked  yourself 
into  a  fit  of  the  blues."  He  led  her  through  the  folding  doors 
into  the  library  beyond,  which  was  empty,  but  rich  in  the 
possession  of  a  glorious  fire.  He  closed  the  folding  doors 
again,  and  pressed  her  gently  into  the  depths  of  a  huge 
armchair  that  adorned  one  side  of  the  hearth.  "  Now 
confess  you  are  looking  through  spectacles  a  little  less 
grey,"  he  said.  He  looked  at  her  as  he  spoke,  and  the 
fact  that  she  was  compelling  herself  to  smile  became 
apparent  to  him. 

"  If  by  going  from  one  room  to  another  we  could  leave 
our  griefs  behind  us,  how  incessantly  we  should  be  on  the 
move,  what  a  restless  people  we  should  become,"  she  said. 
"  We  should  learn  at  last  the  meaning  of  perpetual  motion." 

"  What  a  melancholy  view  to  take  of  life  ! — what  a  face, 


MARVEL.  311 

a  tone !  What  has  so  changed  you,  Marvel  ?  You  were  a 
merry  child  when — when  I  married  you.  You  are  now  sad 
and  grave  to  an  excess.  Am  I  to  believe,"  remorsefully, 
"  that  it  is  I  who  have  spoiled  your  life  ?  " 

"You!  oh  no." 

"  Your  marriage  with  me,  then  ?  n 

"That  in  part,"  said  she  with  a  gentle  truthfulness, 
"  because  it  is  harder  than  you  know  to  live  unloved  ;  but 
that  other  thing,"  she  paled  and  turned  away  from  him, 
"  the  knowledge  that  shame  rests  upon  my  birth,  that  is 
the  thing  that  hurts  and  galls,  and  kills  each  happy 
moment." 

"  Why  can  you  not  learn  to  forget,  as  others  do  ?  " 

"  Do  they  ?  Who  can  be  sure  of  that  ?  And,  at  all  events, 
it  is  not  possible  to  me.  Even  in  my  dreams  that  shame 
lives  with  me  !  "  She  lifted  her  shining,  miserable  eyes  to 
his.  "  When  I  see  all  these  people,  when  I  mix  with  them ; 
when  you  see  me  laughing,  and  apparently  as  light-hearted 
as  they,  do  you  ever  know  how  it  is  with  me  ?  I  am  not 
so  deaf  that  I  cannot  hear  a  word  there,  a  whisper  here. 
They  admire,  yes,  if  you  will,  but  as  a  thing  apart.  I  am 
not  one  of  them." 

"  A  charm  in  itself,"  lightly. 

"  One  I  do  not  appreciate,"  bitterly.  "  I  would  willingly 
forget  that  I  am  nameless." 

"  You  are  not  that,  certainly." 

"  But  Marvel !  What  a  name  !  One  given  me  by  you 
in  a  moment's  freak  !  A  name  not  blessed  by  church  or 
priest." 

"  You  have  another,  however.  I  beg  you  will  not  put 
that  out  of  remembrance — Craven.  That  at  least  was  blessed 
by  church  and  priest.  You  cannot  deny  it." 

"  I  would,  indeed,  that  I  could,"  said  she  with  such  a 
solemn  melancholy,  and  with  such  deep  sincerity  of  tone, 
that  he  glanced  at  her  keenly. 

"  An  ungracious  speech,"  he  said. 

"  Oh,  no,"  quickly.  "  I  did  not  mean  it  so,  it  was  for 
your  sake  alone  I  made  it.  Do  you  know,"  regarding  him 
wistfully,  "  I  sometimes  wonder  at  you.  You  have  been  so 
very  good  to  me,  so  kind."  She  broke  off  unsteadily  and 


312  MARVEL. 

lifted  her  hand  to  her  round  girlish  throat,  as  if  to  still  the 
throbbing  there.  "  Sometimes,  too,  I  ask  myself  why  it  is 
you  do  not  curse  me." 

"  Marvel !  "  he  spoke  in  a  quick,  shocked  tone,  and  drew 
away  her  hand  from  her  throat  and  held  it  firmly. 

"  I  do,"  she  went  on  rapidly,  passionately.  "  I  will  speak 
now,  if  for  the  last  time.  But  for  my  folly,  our  marriage 
would  never  have  been.  It  is  all  my  fault — all !  I  should 
never  have  married  you  !  My  unknown  birth,  nay,  my 
birth  that  may  be  worse  than  unknown,  because  known  to 
be  dishonourable  at  any  moment,  should  have  been  a 
barrier  between  us.  She  told  me  that." 

"She?    Who?" 

"  Mrs.  Scarlett.  She  has,"  bitterly,  "  your  interests  very 
much  at  heart.  She  told  me  very  frankly  that  she  hated 
me  because  I  had  ruined  your  life — that  my  unhappy  posi- 
tion, as  a  mere  stray  flung  up  out  of  the  mire  of  the  world 
at  your  feet,  was  the  one  thing  you  cannot  forgive — that 
I  am  the  solitary  blot  upon  the  old  name  so  dear  to  you. 
She  said  so  much,  so  much  !  Oh  !  "  the  tears  starting  to 
her  eyes,  "  she  should  not  have  said  it.  I  knew  it,  I  felt  it  all, 
long  ago  ! "  She  covered  her  eyes  with  her  hands.  "  It  was 
cruel !  "  she  said  breathlessly. 

"  Damnably  so ! "  said  Wriothesley,  who  had  turned 
rather  white.  "  And  a  lie  into  the  bargain.  Were  you  this 
instant  proved  to  be " 

"  Oh,  don't ! "  she  cried  with  fierce  pain,  putting  up  her 
hands  to  check  him.  "  Don't  put  it  into  words.  I  cannot 
bear  it ! "  Then  she  grew  calmer.  "  And  why,  too,  shoulc 
you  forswear  yourself  for  me  ?  I  am  nothing,  I  need  be 
nothing  to  you.  That  I  trouble,  that  I  fetter  you,  I  know, 
but  what,"l  with  a  miserable  appealing  glance,  "  can  I  do  ? 
You  must  only  wait  for  death  to  set  you  free  from  me. 
Day  by  day  I  pray  for  it,  yet  it  never  comes.  What  else 
can  I  do  ?  "  She  was  trembling.  Suddenly  she  looked  up 
at  him.  "  There  is  one  thing  that  hurts  me,"  she  said  with 
the  nervous  abruptness  of  a  child,  "  that  you  should  have 
loved  her." 

"  What  one  of  us  but  bears  the  scars  of  some  past  folly," 
exclaimed  he  quickly.  "At  least  you  do  me  justice  ir 


MAKVEL.  313 

acknowledging  that  such  a  love  is  dead.  Once,  I  admit,  I 
loved  her,  wildly,  unreasonably,  yet  I  have  lived  to  bless 
Heaven  that  my  wishes  then  (in  that  mad  past)  were  denied 
me.  I  swear  to  you  that  now  she  is  hateful  in  my  sight." 

At  this  moment  the  doors  communicating  with  the  room 
they  had  just  left  were  again  flung  opent  violently  this  time, 
and  Mrs.  Scarlett  stood  on  the  threshold.  She  looked  old, 
haggard,  wild.  She  held  something  clutched  in  her  right 
hand,  and  as  she  advanced  into  the  room  she  held  it  out 
to  Marvel.  It  was  the  battered  old  locket  that  Wriothesley 
had  taken  from  his  wife  and  flung  upon  the  table. 

"  Where  did  you  get  this  ?  "  she  cried  hoarsely.  "  Is  it 
yours  ?  Speak,  girl." 

"  It  is  mine,  yes,"  said  Marvel,  going  forward  quickly  as 
if  to  take  it,  but  Mrs.  Scarlett  waved  her  back. 

"  Where  did  you  get  it  ?  "  she  demanded  again.  "  Why 
do  you  hesitate  ?  Answer  me,  I  command  you!  " 

Marvel  drew  back  and  glanced  at  Wriothesley  as  if 
frightened,  as  if  imploring  his  support. 

"Pray  try  to  control  yourself,  when  addressing  Lady 
Wriothesley,"  he  said  with  a  look  full  of  ill-suppressed  anger 
directed  at  Mrs.  Scarlett.  "  If,  indeed,"  coldly,  "  it  be 
necessary  that  you  should  speak  to  her  at  all." 

"  Do  you  hear  me  ?  Answer,"  said  she,  precisely  as 
though  she  had  not  heard  him,  which,  indeed,  she  had  not. 
"  Where  did  you  get  this  thing  ?  " 

"  I  cannot  tell  you  that.  I  do  not  know,"  said  Marvel, 
speaking  as  though  compelled  to  it  by  some  superior  force. 
"  All  I  know  is  that  it  was  round  my  neck  on  that  night 
when  I  was  abandoned  to  the  fury  of  the  storm,  and  was 

rescued  from  it  by "  She  turned  with  a  rather  dreamy 

confused  air,  and  held  out  her  hand  to  Wriothesley.  Once 
again  that  pitiless  storm  seemed  to  break  above  her  head. 

"  You  !  you  !  "  cried  Mrs.  Scarlett,  in  a  low  piercing  tone 
that  was  barely  above  a  whisper.  "  That,  of  all  others,  it 
should  be  you  J  Sweet  Heaven,  what  a  revenge  for  you." 
She  paused  and  gasped  as  if  for  breath.  "All  along  the 
truth  was  bare  to  me,  and  1  would  not  see  ;  but  when  this 
picture,"  crushing  the  locket  between  her  fingers,  "  looked 
back  at  me  as  I  gazed  on  it,  I  knew." 


314  MARVEL. 

"  Knew  what  ?  "  demanded  Marvel,  leaning  forward  with 
parted  lips. 

"  That  the  face  within  this  trinket  is  that  of  your  father." 

"My  father  !"  the  words  fell  from  her  in  a  little  hushed 
tone.  At  last,  at  last  was  she  to  learn  the  mystery  of  her 
life  ;  and  through  this  woman.  Her  heart  sank  within  her. 
"  It  is  he,  then,"  she  said  faintly.  "  But  you — what  do  you 
know  of  him  ?  You " 

All  at  once  an  awful  expression  grew  within  her  eyes. 
Her  face  blanched  to  a  deathly  pallor.  Sometimes  like 
lightning- strokes  the  undreamt-of  truth  descends  upon  us, 
but  still  she  made  a  last  faint  struggle  against  it.  "  You  are 

not "  she  faltered  and  shrank  back  shivering.  "  Oh  no  ! 

Oh  no  ! "  she  cried  in  wildest  protestation. 

"  You  have  guessed  it,  I  am  your  mother"  said  Mrs. 
Scarlett. 


CHAPTER  LIII. 
"  Was  life  worth  living  then  ?  and  now  is  life  worth  sin  ?  " 

MARVEL  did  not  move.  She  stood  pale,  motionless,  as  one 
smitten  into  marble.  A  great  wave  of  emotion,  strong, 
terrible,  swept  over  her  face,  leaving  it  as  colourless  as  a 
spent  lily.  There  was  horror  in  it,  mingled  with  a  wild 
hope,  and  there  was  dread  and  a  curious  longing. 

As  for  Mrs.  Scarlett  she  seemed  all  at  once  to  have  fallen 
into  the  grasp  of  relentless  age.  Her  mouth  had  grown 
thin  and  drawn,  her  eyes  sunken.  She  stood  staring  at 
Marvel  with  a  gaze  that  was  terrible  because  of  the  intensity 
of  it.  So  this  girl,  whose  life  she  had  been  slowly  poisoning 
for  the  past  four  months,  was  her  own  daughter.  Her  own 
child  !  She  had  brought  together  all  her  ingenuity,  all  the 
subtle  forces  of  her  teeming  brain,  to  compass  what  ? — the 
destruction,  body  and  soul,  of  this  creature  who  by  all  rights, 
human  and  divine,  should  be  the  most  sacred  thing  to  her 
on  earth.  She  had  hated  her  with  a-bitter  relentless  hatred, 
yet  all  through  it  seemed  to  her  now  that  she  had  known  f 
The  truth  had  pressed  itself  upon  her,  at  certain  moments 


MARVEL.  315 

had  stood  out  boldly  before  her,  daring  her  to  disbelieve ; 
yet  she  had  thrust  it  from  her.  But  not  for  a  minute  now 
did  she  attempt  to  deceive  herself.  That  pale  slender  child 
over  there,  Wriothesley's  wife,  was  the  link  between  her  and 
the  dead  past  that  she  had  so  loathed,  and  feared  to  find. 

A  silence  that  was  full  of  a  strange  fascination  had  fallen 
upon  all  three ;  but  Wriothesley  after  awhile  broke  it. 

"  You  have  created  an  admirable  situation,"  he  said,  un- 
pleasantly— "  a  very  dramatic  denouement,  but  you  will 
pa  rdon  me  if  I  say  I  should  like  to  hear  something  about 
the  commencement  of  your  plot." 

"  You  would  hear  ?  "  she  said  slowly,  turning  upon  him 
the  old  enigmatical  smile  that  now  was  tinged  with  cruelty. 
"  Well,  you  shall." 

She  had  overheard  that  last  remark  of  his,  uttered  just 
as  she  entered  the  room,  and  the  flavour  of  it  still  rankled 
in  her  mouth.  Much  as  she  had  hated  Marvel,  more  by  a 
thousandfold  did  she  detest  this  man  who  now  stood  before 
her,  sneering,  sceptical,  contemptuous — who  had  once  been 
her  lover ! 

"But  first  a  question  or  two."  She  turned  to  Marvel. 
"  This  locket,  you  say  it  was  found  on  you  the  night  Lady 
Mary  Craven  took  you  into  her  house.  That  night — tell 
me  of  it." 

"  There  was  a  storm,"  said  Marvel  confusedly ;  "  it  was  a 
wild  tempestuous  night.  Often  and  often  it  all  comes  back 
to  me.  The  roaring  as  of  many  winds;  the  dense  dark- 
ness ;  the  crashing  of  the  branches  overhead ;  the  screaming 
of  some  seabirds  from  the  shore  below ;  and  then  the  step- 
ping out  of  the  blackness  of  death,  as  it  were,  into  the  full 
sweet  glare  of  life."jj 

"  A  storm  !  Yes.  And  how  many  years  ago  was  it  ? 
How  old  were  you  then  ?  " 

"Three.     More  perhaps.     I  cannot  tell." 

"  Four,"  curtly.  "  Now,  do  you  remember  anything  of 
the  woman  who  abandoned  you  on  that  night  ?  " 

"  It  is  such  a  vague  memory,  I  cannot  describe  her,"  said 
Marvel  in  a  distressed  tone,  that  contrasted  oddly  with 
the  suppressed  vehemence  of  the  other ;  "  she  was  old — 
worn " 


316  MARVEL. 

"  It  seems  to  me,"  said  Wriothesley,  breaking  brusquely 
in  upon  her  speech  but  addressing  Mrs.  Scarlett,  "  it  is  our 
own  tale  we  are  hearing  and  not  yours.  You  have  made  a 
most  extraordinary  assertion,  and  I  must  ask  you  to  verify 
it  without  help  from  us." 

He  identified  himself  so  persistently  with  his  wife  that 
the  latter  looked  up  at  him  with  shining  luminous  eyes,  and 
moved  involuntarily  nearer  to  him. 

"  Do  you  think  I  am  trying  to  make  up  a  story  ?  "  said 
she  with  a  short  laugh.  "  Why,  how  would  it  serve  me 
to  cumber  myself  now  with  a  daughter  grown  ?  And  are 
you  indeed  in  such  mad  haste  to  hear  what  I  have  got  to 
tell?  Well,  hear  it."  There  was  defiance  in  the  glance 
she  cast  at  him,  but  there  was  exhaustion  in  the  air  with 
which  she  sank  into  a  chair  near  her. 

"  When  I  was  her  age,"  she  began,  indicating  Marvel  by 
a  slight  gesture,  "  there  came  to  the  dull  secluded  village, 
where  I  lived  alone  with  my  father,  a  young  man.  My 
father  was  well  born  but  poor,  and  therefore  of  small 
account ;  the  young  man  was  rich.  A  very  orthodox  be- 
ginning to  a  romance,  eh  ? "  with  a  cold  sneering  laugh. 
"  There  was  good  hunting  in  the  neighbourhood  and  he 
took  a  house  for  the  season  about  three  miles  from  where 
we  lived.  He  saw  me,  met  me,  loved  me.  It  sounds  like 
the  famous  Csesarean  speech,  but  has  even  more  truth  in  it. 
I  was  lovable  then  I  assume,"  with  a  swift  and  bitter  glance 
at  Wriothesley — "  I  was  like  her."  She  waved  her  hand 
towards  Marvel. 

"  His  name  ?  "  asked  Wriothesley  shortly. 

"  Must  you  know  that  too  ?  Well,  it  hardly  matters. 
Brandreth — Brandreth  Boileau."  She  moistened  her  lips 
as  though  they  were  parched  and  dry,  and  a  long  breath 
came  from  her  white  lips.  "  It  is  so  long  since  I  have 
uttered  that  name,  that  almost  I  find  a  difficulty  in  speaking 
it,"  she  said  heavily,  with  a  vain  attempt  at  lightness  that 
failed  to  hide  the  agony  that  shone  within  her  sombre  eyes. 
"  He  loved  me,  as  I  have  said,  but  marriage  with  me  would 
have  been  ruin  to  every  worldly  hope  he  had.  There  was 
the  inevitable  uncle,  rich,  childless,  titled ;  the  title  would 
pass  to  Brandreth,  but  very  little  of  the  estates  were  en 


MARVEL.  317 

tailed,  and  the  barren  honour  of  calling  himself  a  lord 
would  not  have  sufficed  him,  would  hardly  indeed  have  kept 
body  and  soul  together  in  that  state  of  life  to  which  we 
have  been  called.  And  the  old  man,  the  uncle,  had  other 
views  for  him.  To  disappoint  them  meant  disinheritance. 
So  we  loved — in  silence,  in  secrecy,  and  then " 

She  raised  her  hand  to  her  throat  as  if  suffocating. 

"  Then — five  months  after  we  had  met — he  died  ! " 

She  paused  and  pressed  the  palm  of  her  hand  upon  the 
locket  lying  on  the  table  as  if  she  would  have  crushed  it  in 
her  pain. 

"  It  was  a  railway  accident.  It  was  useless  to  do  any- 
thing ;  he  was  a  whole  day  dead  before  I  heard  of  it 
Still — cold — the  beauty  frozen  on  his  face.  Oh  ! " 

Her  voice  died  away  in  a  long  gasping  sigh  and  she  smote 
her  hands  together. 

"  There  was  nothing  but  him  for  me.  All  the  world  was 
only  him,  and  he  was  dead ! "  There  was  intolerable 
anguish  in  her  tone,  anguish  fresh  as  though  the  story  of 
her  woe  had  been  first  told  an  hour  agone.  "  Yet  /  lived  1 " 
she  said. 

She  swayed  a  little.  It  became  evident  to  Wriothesley 
that  apart  from  the  excitement  of  the  moment  and  the 
cruelty  of  the  memories  she  had  evoked,  she  was  extremely 
ill.  But  as  he  stepped  forward  to  help  her,  she  roused  her- 
self and  drove  him  back  from  her  with  an  imperious  gesture. 

"  Don't  touch  me  !  Do  you  think  I  am  such  a  feeble 
thing,"  she  said,  "  that  even  such  memories  will  kill  me  ! 
Pah  !  you  do  not  understand  ;  you  could  not  love  like  that. 
Well,  he  was  dead.  It  was  all  over,  and  then,  just  then,  I 
found  that  she,"  pointing  to  Marvel,  who  stood  with  head 
down-bent,  and  face  ashen  pale,  "  was  to  be  born  ;  that 
was  the  cruellest  sting  of  all ! " 

A  slight  sound  broke  from  Marvel ;  Wriothesley  held  up 
an  entreating  hand. 

"  Spare  her  what  you  can,"  he  begged. 

"  Why  should  I  spare  her — even  one  pang  ?  "  said  she 
coldly,  in  the  low  even  tone  she  had  employed  all  through. 
"  Was  I  spared  ?  did  2  not  suffer  ?  Who  came  to  my  assist- 
ance when  I  knew  not  what  to  do,  or  where  to  turn  to  hide 


318  MAKVEL. 

my  head  ?     At  that  time  too  my  father  died ;  I  thanked 
God  for  that." 

For  the  first  time  a  soft,  a  human  light  grew  within  her 
eyes. 

" He  never  knew" she  said. 

Somehow  as  those  words  passed  her  lips,  Marvel's  soul 
died  within  her.  She  drew  herself  away  from  Wriothesley's 
protecting  arm,  and  a  low  moan  broke  from  her. 

"You  have  heard  enough  for  to-day.  Wait;  hear  the 
rest  another  time,"  said  he  anxiously. 

"No,  no,"  feverishly.  "Do  you  think  I  could  wait? 
Let  me  have  it  all  at  once ;  is  suspense  a  light  burden  ?  " 

"  There  was  a  woman,"  went  on  Mrs.  Scarlett  in  her  low 
monotone,  that  now  had  no  emotion  in  it,  "an  elderly 
woman,  my  own  nurse  she  had  been,  and  in  her  I  confided. 
Together  we  left  home  and  sought  a  remote  village  on  the 
Cornwall  coast,  and  there — you  were  born."  She  lifted  her 
eyes  to  Marvel's  with  a  reluctant  dislike.  "  Even  then,"  she 
said,  "  as  you  lay  helpless,  powerless,  within  my  arms,  I 
hated  you ! " 

She  pushed  back  the  hair  from  her  forehead  and  drew  a 
long  breath.  She  laughed  a  little. 

"  It  is  true,"  she  said  ;  "  the  very  brute  beast  will  love 
its  offspring,  but  I — I  loathed  mine  !  As  soon  as  I  dared 
stir,  I  forsook  you,  and  left  you  with  my  nurse.  An  aunt 
of  mine  with  whom  I  had  kept  up  a  desultory  sort  of  corre- 
spondence, and  who  was  well  married  and  living  in  the 
world,  wrote  asking  me  to  go  and  live  with  her.  I  gladly 
consented ;  I  even  grasped  at  the  chance.  It  opened  out  to 
me  a  way  of  retrieving  my  folly  and  making  myself  such 
a  place  in  the  world  as  I  had  ever  hoped  for.  But  you — you" 
looking  at  Marvel,  "  you  destroyed  all — you,  and  this." 

Again  she  laid  her  hand  upon  the  locket  wherein  lay  the 
dead  man's  face.  The  man  who  alone  had  ever  touched 
her  worldly  heart,  for  whose  sake  she  had  been  deaf  and 
blind  evermore  to  the  attractions  of  all  others.  It  was  the 
one  saving  clause  in  her  cold,  calculating  ambitious  nature 
— that  one  wild  absorbing  passion  of  her  youth. 

"  I  feared  the  discovery  of  you — you  hung  like  a  millstone 
round  my  neck,"  she  said,  still  with  her  reluctant  gaze  fixed 


MAKVEL.  319 

on  Marvel,  who  shrank  and  shivered  before  her.  "And 
the  woman  who  kept  you  grew  greedy  for  her  claims.  She 
wrote  always  for  money,  and  I  had  none  to  give.  Though 
living  in  affluence  with  that  rich  woman — curse  her !  "  said 
she  suddenly  with  an  awful  bitterness,  "  I  had  not  one 
penny  ever  that  I  could  call  my  own.  I  had  dresses, 
trinkets,  but  no  pocket  money  to  speak  of.  Once  she  dis- 
covered me  trying  to  pawn  a  ring,  and  after  that  there  was 
no  single  moment  that  I  could  call  my  own.  Perhaps  she 
suspected  something,  I  never  knew,  but  at  all  events  the 
woman — the  nurse — though  importunate  was  faithful ;  she 
never  betrayed  me.  Still,  when  she  found  she  could  get  no 
money  from  me,  she  tired  of  you,"  turning  cold  cruel  eyes 
on  Marvel,  "  tired,  as  have  all  the  others  !  " 

"  Oh  !  no.  Oh  !  have  pity,"  said  the  girl  in  a  slow  pain- 
ful tone  that  went  to  Wriothesley's  heart. 

"  You  would  have  the  truth.  Now  bear  it,"  said  she  re- 
lentlessly. "  Yes,  even  that  woman  who  nursed  you  would 
fain  be  rid  of  you  when  she  discovered  that  I  could  not 
supply  her  with  the  money  needful  for  your  wants  and  her 
extortionate  demands.  Your  birth  was  a  horror  to  me," 
slowly ;  "  the  thought  of  you  a  constant,  never-dying  fear. 
When,  at  the  end  of  four  years,  the  woman  wrote  to  me  to 
say  you  were  dead — I  rejoiced" 

She  spoke  with  such  deliberate  malignancy  that  Wri- 
othesley's blood  rose  to  his  face.  He  glanced  compassion- 
ately at  Marvel.  She  was  pale,  an  icy  chill  seemed  to  have 
passed  over  her ;  she  shuddered. 

"  Then — at  last — I  felt  free :  the  hateful  chain  that  bound 
me  was  loosed.  I  blessed  death  from  my  very  heart.  An 
old  man,  rich,  pliable — a  hideous  old  man — had  been  my 
suitor  for  some  time  ;  just  then  he  offered  himself  to  me  for 
the  third  time  and  I  accepted  him.  I  married  Mr.  Scarlett, 
and  for  the  first  time  for  five  years  a  sense  of  rest  stole  over 
me.  It  lasted  for  seven  years  ;  then  I  had  a  letter  from 
the  nurse  to  say  she  was  dying ;  that  she  was  indeed  at 
the  very  point  of  death ;  that  I  should  come  to  her,  and 
quickly  if  I  would  see  her  alive  and  hear  from  her  own  lips 
that  which  would  influence  my  entire  life."  She  was  silent 
for  a  moment  as  if  thinking. 


320  MARVEL. 

"  I  arrived  at  her  house  a  day  after  the  summons  reached 
me.  A  day  too  late  !  I  found  her  at  the  very  portals  of 
that  city  we  all  so  fear  to  enter.  She  had  barely  sufficient 
strength  left  to  tell  me  that  the  child  whom  she  had  taken 
from  me  and  whom  she  had  sworn  was  dead,  was  still  living  ! " 
Perhaps  she  lied,"  said  Wriothesley  hoarsely. 

'*  No ;  the  dying  seldom  lie,  and  there  was  that  on  her 
face  which  forbids  the  thought  of  it.  She  said  she  had 
found  it  impossible  to  support  herself  and  the  child  on  the 
small  and  uncertain  sums  I  was  able  to  send  to  her  from 
time  to  time,  so  that  at  last  she  became  determined  to  rid 
herself  of  her  nursling  by  leaving  her  secretly  at  some  work- 
house where  she  was  unknown.  One  evening,  with  this 
purpose  in  her  mind,  she  set  out  with  the  child,  and  for 
many  days  wandered  vaguely  inland,  not  knowing  how  or 
fearing  to  accomplish  it.  Her  heart,  she  said,  failed  her  as 
each  occasion  presented  itself;  but  for  myself  I  don't  be- 
lieve in  hearts — had  she  said  her  courage  failed  I  should 
have  understood." 

She  shrugged  her  shoulders  slightly  and  a  faint  sneer 
curled  her  lips. 

"At  last  there  came  a  night  when,  as  they  trudged 
wearily,  aimlessly  along  the  highway,  a  storm  burst  above 
their  heads ;  it  drove  them  to  the  gate  of  a  long  dark  avenue. 
On  the  instant  a  thought  came  to  the  woman  ;  she  pushed 
open  the  gate  and  sped  quickly  with  the  child  between  the 
rows  of  stately  limes  until  the  white  lights  of  the  house 
gleaming  on  the  awful  darkness  told  her  the  fulfilment  of 
her  desire  was  at  hand. 

"  In  the  pitch  blackness  who  could  see  her  lowering  the 
baby  to  the  ground?  She  fought  her  way  through  the 
roaring  winds  and  blinding  rain  to  the  steps  of  a  stone  stair- 
case that  evidently  led  to  a  room  above,  from  which  shone 
out  the  yellow  glare  of  lamps.  There  she  abandoned  the 
child,  and  with  a  last  parting  command  to  her  to  climb  the 
steps,  desened  her  for  ever." 

"A  •vcrt.'ty  accomplice  of  a  worthy  mother,"  said 
Wriothr  rcy  bitterly. 

"Na*  cr  !  your  hatred  runs  away  with  you.  She  was 
no  accc  t  p!  ce  of  mine.  You  have  paid  but  ill  heed  to  my 


MAKVKL.  jai 

words  or  you  would  remember  that  all  this  that  she  breathed 
to  me  on  her  dying  bed  was  new  and  most  unwelcome  tidings." 

"  Do  not  speak — do  not  interrupt — let  me  hear  it  all — • 
all!  "  entreated  Marvel,  turning  upon  him  a  look  of  anguish. 

"  Well,  there  is  more  to  tell  ?  "  questioned  he,  in  answer 
to  her  appeal,  addressing  Mrs.  Scarlett. 

"No.  No  more.  So  far  she  had  got  in  her  narrative 
when  she  lifted  herself  high  upon  her  pallet,  stared  wildly  at 
me,  made  a  last  fearful  effort  to  speak,  and  then  dropped 
back  like  a  stone  upon  her  pillow.  I  seized  her.  I  called 
aloud  to  her  to  name  the  village  near  which  the  child  had 
been  left,  but  all  in  vain.  I  even  shook  her  violently,  the 
disappointing,  dying  thing,  hoping  thus  to  recall  her,  if  only 
for  one  moment,  to  a  sense  of  this  life,  but  I  failed.  I  even 
think,"  angrily,  "  that  my  violence  frustrated  my  own  hopes, 
that  that  last  shake  hurried  her  entrance  into  oblivion  !  At 
all  events  she  was  dead,  and  with  her  went  every  chance 
of  learning  the  truth." 

"  What  was  the  child's  name  ? "  asked  Wriothesley 
abruptly. 

"  Margaret  she  had  been  christened.  Meg,  the  woman 
called  her.  For  me,  I  called  her  nothing." 

"  Meg."  As  a  long  past  dream  suddenly  recurs  to  one's 
memory,  bringing  with  it  a  train  of  thought  that  had  seemed 
dead  and  buried  this  many  a  day,  so  now  there  rushed  upon 
the  minds  of  Marvel  and  Wriothesley  a  remembrance  of 
that  past,  wild,  yet  happy  hour  \vhen  a  little  child  had  been 
drawn  in  by  loving  hands  from  the  damp  and  death  of 
night  to  the  warmth  of  a  fireside  shelter — a  little  child,  so 
small,  so  cold,  that  her  white  lips  could  scarcely  tell  them 
that  her  name  was  "  M'g."  They  had  not  known  what  it 
meant  then — the  boy  who  was  now  a  man,  the  woman  who 
now  was  dead — but  the  man  remembered  and  turned  his 
eyes  on  Marvel  with  even  a  gentler  tenderness  than  he  had 
betrayed  before. 

That  little  vague  sound  "  M'g  "  had  meant  "  Meg  " — 
Margaret.  Alas  !  for  the  sorrow  of  it,  thought  he,  dwelling 
on  her  grief  alone,  giving  no  thought  to  his  own  natural 
regret. 

At  this  moment  Marvel  lifted  her  head. 

21 


CHAPTER  LIV. 

"Even  ev'ry  ray  of  hope  destroy 'd, 
And  not  a  wish  to  gild  the  gloom.* 

SHE  was  deadly  pale.  Her  eyes  gleamed.  She  came  righ: 
up  to  Mrs.  Scarlett  and  laid  a  burning  hand  on  hers. 

"  I  have  heard  all,"  she  said.  "  But  there  is  one  thing 

yet.  There  was  a  marriage  between  you  and ."  She 

pointed  to  the  open  locket.  "  Say  so  /  "  There  was  silence. 
Her  face  now  was  ghastly,  and  mechanically  she  laid  both 
her  slender  palms  on  Mrs.  Scarlett's  arms  and  shook  her 
to  and  fro.  "  Say  ;'/  /  "  she  said,  her  voice  being  almost  a 
command. 

A  malignant  smile  lit  up  the  other's  face.  She  flung  the 
girl  from  her  with  a  little  swift  gesture  and  turned  her  eyes 
full  on  Wriothesley. 

"  There  was  no  marriage  ! "  she  said.  "  Why  should  I 
lie  to  please  you  ?  "  slowly  glancing  round  at  Marvel.  "  No, 
there  was  no  marriage.  He  lived;  he  loved;  he  died; 
that  was  all." 

She  broke  into  a  wild  laugh. 

"  Does  it  hurt  you  ?  "  she  cried,  and  then  in  a  slow, 
venomous  way,  "  I  am  glad  of  it.  Ah  !  how  often  you  hav? 
hurt  me." 

A  quiver  ran  through .  Marvel's  slender  frame.  She 
caught  hold  suddenly  of  one  of  the  curtains  near  her  as  if 
to  steady  herself,  and  then  with  a  deplorable  gesture  turned 
her  face  to  the  wall. 

She  leant  her  arms  against  it,  and  her  head  on  them ;  if 
she  could  have  hidden  herself  away,  and  shut  out  from  her 
the  world's  light  for  ever,  she  would  have  done  so.  Where 
indeed  was  rest,  or  peace,  or  light,  to  be  found  for  her  ever 
again?  How  should  she  endure  the  glare  of  this  earth's 
scrutiny  in  all  the  years  to  come  ? 

There  was  something  so  forlorn  in  her  attitude,  there  wai 
such  an  abandonment  in  it  to  an  eternal  despair,  that  it 
maddened  Wriothesley.  He  went  up  to  her  and  tried 
eagerly  to  draw  her  to  him,  but  she  resisted  him  with 


MARVEL.  323 

such  a  passionate  vehemence  that  he  did  not  dare  to 
insist. 

He  turned  from  her  and  directed  all  the  grief  and  sorrow 
and  indignation  in  him,  that  made  his  heart  sore,  on  her 
who  was  the  author  of  it. 

"You  see!"  he  said,  indicating  Marvel  by  a  gesture. 
"  Are  you  satisfied  ?  Your  devilish  acts  have  brought  her 
to  this.  It  should  be  enough  almost  for  you,  I  think." 

"  Almost ! "  coolly.  She  turned  a  calm  smileless  face  to 
his.  "You  think  I  should  feel  regret,"  she  said.  "You 
will  deem  me  a  devil  when  I  tell  you  that  I  feel  only — 
satisfaction." 

Then  her  tone  changed  to  a  sudden  fierceness  that 
seemed  to  sweep  all  before  it. 

"See  you!"  cried  she  in  a  voice  vindictive — terrible. 
"  I  hated  her  always  !  I  knew  her  on  that  first  cursed  night 
when  in  all  her  beauty  she  entered  the  room  and  stood  be- 
fore me.  I  knew  her  as  well  as  though,  in  black  and  white, 
her  story  was  writ  upon  the  wall  that  faced  me.  There 
stood  my  sin  before  me — living  !  inexorable  !  Oh  !  "  She 
put  out  her  hands  as  though  she  would  have  crushed  that 
slight  stricken  figure  near  her.  "If  I  could  have  killed 
her,  I  would  ! " 

"  Be  silent,  woman,"  said  Wriothesley  with  authority. 

"What  a  tone  from  you  to  me,"  said  she,  a  mocking 
inflection  in  her  voice.  "  Have  you  forgotten  a  time  when 
you  only  piped  or  sang,  wept  or  laughed,  at  my  command  ? 
Truly  men's  memories  are  short,  but  women's  long-lived, 
and  revenge  is  mine  this  day ! " 

A  low  cruel  laugh  fell  from  her  lips. 

"  I  have  the  best  of  it  now"  she  said  pointing  to  Marvel, 
a  crushed,  mournful  figure.  "You  think  me  inhuman," 
she  went  on  turning  lightly  to  Wriothesley.  "  Perhaps  you 
are  right,  but  if  so,  the  world  has  been  the  cause  of  it 
What  !  Shall  I  suffer  all  things  at  its  hands  and  show  no 
fight ;  make  no  sign  ?  A  cruei  fate  blighted  my  best  days  ; 
the  same  cruel  fate  pursues  me  to  this  day,  and  shall  I  when 
my  hour  comes  forbear  to  strike?  All  my  life  long  my 
dearest  hopes  have  been  blasted,  almost  as  fruition  seemed 
near,  within  my  grasp.  The  one  creature  whom  I  loved 

21 2 


324  MAKVJSi* 

was  taken  from  me  when  as  yet  I  was  but  a  child  ;  the  one 
great  ambition  of  my  existence,  a  chance  that  would  have 
raised  me  high  above  even  my  fondest  aspirations,  slipped 
from  my  hold  almost  as  my  fingers  closed  upon  it.  Death 
once  again  stepped  in  and  slew  my  ambition  as  it  had  slain 
my  love.  And  to  have  been  a  duchess !  That  would  have 
compensated  for  all." 

She  closed  and  unclosed  her  fingers  rapidly,  and  an 
expression  of  baffled  desire,  of  a  disappointment  too  great 
almost  to  be  borne,  darkened  her  face. 

"  That  old  man  !  Had  he  but  lived  but  one  short  day," 
she  said  between  her  teeth.  "  The  malignancy  of  fate !  " 

She  drew  her  breath  sharply  and  recovered  herself;  as 
she  did  so  she  caught  Wriothesley's  glance  fixed  on  her,  and 
a  derisive  smile  parted  her  lips. 

"  And  you — you  poor  fool !  "  she  said  with  a  bitter  sneer, 
"  throughout  all  that  time  you  believed  that  I  loved  you. 
You  could  not  see  that  you  were  the  simple  tool  kept  ever 
near  me  to  urge  that  old  man  to  lay  his  title  at  my  feet. 
You  could  not  realize  that  even  as  you  knelt  at  my  feet 
and  poured  out  there  all  the  treasures  of  your  love,  that  you 
were  less  than  nothing  to  me,  and  mere  means  to  an  end  in 
which  you  would  have  no  part.  And  what  a  lover  you 
made  ! "  she  laughed  aloud.  "  An  ideal  one !  What 
raptures !  What  ecstasies  !  What  protestations !  And  how 
inexpressibly  they  bored  me  at  all  times." 

"I  thank  heaven  they  did!"  said  Wriothesley  vehemently. 
The  hot  blood  mounted  to  his  brow  and  shame  covered 
him.  That  she — that  poor  stricken  child — should  hear  all 
this  now,  at  a  moment  when  so  terrible  a  sorrow  was  crush- 
ing the  very  life  out  of  her,  seemed  a  very  refinement  of 
cruelty.  "  Have  you  no  shame  in  you  that  you  talk  so — 
now  ;  when  all  that  past  madness  is  over  and  done ;  when 
you  know " 

"  That  you  love  her  now  and  not  me  ?  That  you  love 
her  perhaps  as  you  never  loved  me  even  in  your  best  days  ? 
Oh,  yes,  I  know  all  that.  But  I  know  too  that  the  memory 
of  that  past  will  rankle  in  her  future  and  spoil  whatever 
happy  hours  the  future  may  give  her." 

Wriothesley  did  not  hear  her  last  words,  he  was  watching 


MAEVEI*  345 

Marvel.  Had  she  heard  this  woman's  own  assurance  that 
his  old  fierce  passion  for  her  was  indeed  dead  ? — that  his 
love  for  her — his  wife — burned  warmly,  purely,  as  that  first 
had  never  done  ?  Oh,  if  she  could  but  hear !  He  looked 
at  the  tall,  childlike,  motionless  form  with  its  face  buried 
against  the  wall  and  his  heart  died  within  him.  What  could 
compensate  to  her  for  such  misery  as  was  hers  to-day  ? 

Still,  had  she  heard  ?  And  if  so,  did  she  believe  ?  It 
might  at  least  (even  if  she  did  not  care)  be  some  slight 
reparation.  But  he  could  not  judge,  by  her,  if  one  word  had 
entered  into  her.  She  stood  silent,  in  an  attitude  that 
spoke  only  of  despair. 

Presently,  however,  as  if  she  felt  the  magnetism  of  his 
gaze,  she  slowly  lifted  her  head  and  turned  her  face 
towards  him.  There  was  a  terrible  self-reproach  upon  it,  a 
remorse  that  was  painful. 

"How  can  I  ever  hope  that  you  will  forgive  me  ?  "  she 
said.  "  The  disgrace — the  shame — what  could  wash  it 
out  !  Ah,"  sighing  heavily  and  turning  weary  eyes  on  Mrs. 
Scarlett,  "you  were  right  indeed  when  you  said  I  had 
ruined  his  life  ! " 

"  I  am  glad  of  it,"  said  Mrs.  Scarlett  brusquely. 

"  Oh,  mother  !  Oh,  mother  !  "  cried  the  girl  in  a  sharp 
tone  of  passionate  reproach — of  unutterable  misery.  She  let 
her  face  fall  forward  into  her  hands.  There  was  a  moment's 
dead  pause,  after  that  wild,  strange  cry,  and  then 

Something  dreadful  had  happened,  as  it  seemed  to  them, 
all  at  once  and  without  an  instant's  warning.  There  had 
been  a  little  rustle  of  Mrs.  Scarlett's  gown,  and  instinctively 
Marvel  and  VVriothesley  had  looked  towards  her.  She  was 
livid,  ghastly ;  her  hands  were  clutching  the  back  of  a  chair 
near  her,  and  she  was  swaying  from  side  to  side  as  one  in 
mortal  agony. 

Marvel  rushed  to  her  and  caught  her  in  her  arms.  She 
had  been  quicker  than  Wriothesley.  Mrs.  Scarlett's  grasp 
upon  the  chair  relaxed,  and  she  pressed  her  right  hand  con- 
vulsively to  her  side. 

"  Oh,  this  pain  !  this  anguish  ! "  she  moaned.  Broken 
words  fell  from  her  lips — the  sweat  stood  out  upon  her 
brow,  and  then  presently  there  came  a  great  silence. 


326  MARVEL. 

Ste  was  still  lying  senseless  in  Marvel's  arms  when  at 
last  h  e  servants  came  in  answer  to  Wriothesley's  continued 
ringing,  and  lifted  her  from  where  she  was  half  stretched 
upon  the  ground. 

They  bore  her  away  and  carried  her  upstairs  to  her 
chamber  and  laid  her  on  her  bed,  where  she  lay  inert,  uncon- 
scious even  long  after  the  arrival  of  the  doctor  who  had 
been  summoned  with  all  haste.  Another  was  telegraphed 
for  to  town  and  the  whole  house  was  in  a  commotion. 

She  recovered  consciousness  a  little  later  on,  but  was  by 
the  physicians  declared  to  be  in  a  very  critical  state.  She 
went  from  one  fit  of  insensibility  into  another,  and  only  as  the 
chill  cold  morning  broke,  rallied  slightly.  Marvel  was  with 
her  then,  and  she  appeared  to  know  and  put  out  her  hand 
feebly  towards  her.  It  was  the  first  sign  that  she  had  given 
of  knowing  any  one  of  those  who  stood  around  her. 

The  guests  staying  at  Grangemore  faded  away  as  swiftly 
as  shadows;  the  presence  of  death  scared  them,  and 
besides  their  visits  had  drawn  to  an  end.  At  last  no  one 
was  left  in  the  house  save  Sir  George  Townshend — who 
would  not  go  in  spite  of  all  his  lady-love's  hints,  who  was 
put  out  by  Mrs.  Scarlett's  bad  taste  in  choosing  her  house 
as  a  hospital — Wriothesley,  Marvel,  and  the  invalid. 

The  condition  of  the  latter  varied  from  day  to  day.  A 
nurse  had  been  sent  down  from  town,  but  when  the 
paroxysms  of  pain,  which  now  followed  one  upon  another 
with  startling  and  distressing  frequency,  seized  upon  the 
patient,  it  was  found  that  Marvel  only  had  power  to  soothe 
and  calm  her.  So  much  so  that  the  physicians  looked 
round  instinctively  for  Lady  Wriothesley's  pale,  sad  face 
and  slight  girlish  figure  when  the  pains  caught  the  wasted 
figure  in  the  bed  and  rent  her  sore. 

And  Marvel  answered  to  their  call.  She  clung,  with  a 
persistency  that  annoyed  Cicely  beyond  measure,  to  the 
sick  room,  devoting  herself  with  an  eagerness  that  puzzled 
every  one  but  Wriothesley  to  the  irritable  creature  whom 
disease  had  brought  from  high  estate  to  be  low  as  any 
peasant-born. 

Cicely  remonstrated  with  Marvel  now  mildly,  now  angrily. 
Was  she  going  to  throw  away  her  health,  her  beauty,  for  a 


MARVEL.  337 

woman  who  had  scorned  and  insulted  her  unceasingly  so 
long  as  opportunity  was  given,  and  who  was  safe  to  do  it 
again  if  ever  she  rose  from  her  sick  couch  ?  Humanity 
was  a  charming  thing,  no  doubt — the  forgiveness  of 
trespasses  a  duty,  but  there  was  always  a  limit  to  all  things. 
One  should  draw  the  line  at  a  certain  point,  or  overwhelm- 
ing ruin  would  be  the  consequence. 

And  Marvel  would  shake  her  head  and  smile  her  little 
pale  spiritless  smile  that  always  made  Cicely  long  to  shake 
her  and  then  cry  over  her,  but  not  for  word  or  scolding  or 
coaxing  would  she  forsake  that  chamber  where  the  stricken 
woman  lay. 

Only  this,  she  begged  of  Cicely  that  she  would  keep 
Wriothesley  out  of  it !  His  presence  might  disturb  the 
sick  woman  she  said ;  but  there  was  such  violent,  if  sup- 
pressed, anxiety  in  her  tone  as  she  pressed  the  matter  on 
her,  that  Cicely  could  not  help  wondering  afterwards  if  it 
were  possible  that  jealousy  still  reigned  in  that  gentle 
bosom. 

She  was  so  far  troubled  by  Marvel's  vehemence  about 
this  thing  that  she  even  mentioned  it  to  Wriothesley,  being 
of  opinion  that  much  reticence  on  certain  delicate  points 
had  led  to  a  great  deal  of  the  world's  disorder.  She 
watched  him  keenly  as  she  spoke  and  noted  how  his  colour 
changed. 

In  truth,  he  had  guessed,  long  before,  the  reason  why  she 
so  secluded  herself,  why  she  so  shrank  from  meeting  him. 
That  horrible  revelation  which  had  been  poured  with  such 
venom  into  her  ears  on  that  luckless  afternoon  stood  now 
between  him  and  her  like  a  black  cloud,  impenetrable,  un- 
pierceable.  She  would  not  meet  him.  She  feared  to  look 
into  his  eyes.  It  hurt  him  indescribably  to  feel  how  small 
was  the  trust  she  placed  in  him,  how  entirely  dead  she  was 
to  the  real  and  very  honest  affection  he  entertained  for  her. 
Were  all  the  world  before  him  to  choose  therefrom  the  one 
he  loved,  she,  and  she  alone,  would  be  his  choice. 

He  said  very  gently  to  Cicely  that  Marvel  was  right,  that 
no  doubt  the  presence  of  any  stranger  beyond  the  physi- 
cians and  her  servants  would  distress  Mrs.  Scarlett  in  her 
present  low  condition;  that  he  sympathized,  too,  with 


328  JIAEViiU 

Marvel's  desire  to  attend  upon  her.  Doctor  Bland  had 
told  him  that  Marvel's  voice  alone  soothed  her,  and  he 
could  well  believe  that.  She,  Marvel,  as  Cicely  no  doubt 
had  noted,  had  a  voice  wonderfully  low  and  sweet,  an 
excellent  thing  in  any  woman. 

But  to  himself  he  said  that  he  would  combat  this 
determination  of  his  wife's  to  avoid  him.  He  would  see 
her  at  all  risks,  and  compel  her  to  look  into  his  eyes  and 
read  there  the  love  for  her  that  filled  him. 

For  this  purpose  he  waited,  and  watched  the  corridor 
that  led  from  her  own  chamber  to  the  sick-room  and  back 
again,  and  at  last  one  night,  when  day  was  dead  and  all 
the  lamps  made  bright  the  winding  passages  and  stairs,  he 
met  her  face  to  face  close  to  her  own  door. 


CHAPTER  LV. 

"Just  when  I  seemed  about  to  learn! 

Where  is  the  thread  now  ?    Off  again! 
The  old  trick  !     Only  I  discern — 

Infinite  passion  and  the  pain 
Of  finite  hearts  that  yearn." 
#  *  *  #  • 

"And  hope  is  brightest  when  it  dawns  from  fears." 

IT  was  the  first  time  they  had  been  face  to  face,  en  tete-A-tete, 
since  the  miserable  hour  when  she  had  been  declared  that 
most  mournful  of  all  things — one  basely  born.  The  hot 
blood  mounted  to  her  cheek,  and  she  stepped  back  quickly, 
as  though  she  would  have  retreated  into  the  doorway 
behind  her,  but  he  caught  her  hand  and  held  her  fast. 

"What  is  the  meaning  of  it  ?"  he  said.  "Why  do  you 
avoid  me  like  this  ?  There  is  a  great  deal  of  folly  in  it  all, 
is  there  not  ?  " 

He  held  her  hand  closely,  and  tried  to  draw  her  to  him, 
but  she  resisted  passionately. 

"  Do  not,"  she  said.  "  Ah  !  let  me  go.  It  is  such  pain 
to  see  you,  such  a  humiliation.  If  you  only  understood 
you  would  not  try  to  keep  me." 


MARVEL.  329 

"It  is  because  I  understand  that  I  do  keep  you. 
Marvel,  is  your  own  grief  the  only  thing  that  touches  you  ? 
Am  I  nothing  ?  Can  I  not  feel,  too  ?  " 

She  shrank  from  him. 

"  Do  you  think  I  don't  know  it  ?  "  she  said.  "  Bad  as 
it  is  for  me,  how  far,  far  worse  it  must  be  for  you.  And 
now  it  is  hopeless  !  Oh !  if  that  first  time  on  the  yacht, 
when  I  found  out  that  you  loved  her,  if  then  I  had  only 
had  the  courage  to  drown  myself,  how  well  it  would  have 
been.  But  even  now,  I  cannot ;  I  haven't  the  strength  of 
mind;  I  am  afraid;  and  afterwards,  that  would  be  so  terrible." 

"  What  are  you  saying  ?  "  cried  he  angrily.  "  Are  you  out 
of  your  mind  that  you  say  such  wicked  things?  Good 
heavens !  what  a  fool  a  child  like  you  can  be !  And  this 
great  misfortune  of  yours,  what  does  it  come  to?  Why 
nothing.  Things  are  very  much  as  they  were  a  week  ago. 
We  anticipated  always  what  we  now  know,  and  for  my  part 
I  care  not  one  jot." 

"  Is  that  true  ?  "  Her  melancholy  eyes  sought  his,  and 
seemed  to  burn  into  them.  "  Ah  !  do  not  lie  to  me,"  she 
said. 

"  My  de'ar  girl,"  said  Wriothesley  with  very  great  tender- 
ness, "  why  should  I  do  that  ?  I  have  lied  to  no  man  ever, 
why  should  I  lie  to  you  ?  The  fact  is  you  have  dwelt  so 
long  in  the  unhealthy  atmosphere  of  that  sick-room  that 
you  grow  morbid.  Give  yourself  some  relaxation.  You 
want  air  and  the  warm  sunshine  to  give  a  wholesome 
colour  to  your  thoughts." 

"  That  sounds  so  easy,"  she  said  with  a  little  mournful 
smile.  "  You  do  not  understand — how  could  you  ?  You 
would  help  me,  I  know,"  with  a  swift  warm  glance  at  him. 
"  Do  it  then.  Forget  me.  Cease  to  let  the  remembrance 
of  me  trouble  you.  Blot  me  out  of  your  life  in  so  far  as 
you  can." 

"I  shall  not  do  that  certainly,"  said  he  cheerfully. 
"  You  are  part  of  my  life,  and  as  such  I  shall  hold  you. 
We  are  bound  to  each  other,  you  and  I,  by  all  the  laws  of 
man  and  God,  and  I  shall  not  be  the  one  to  sever  the  link 
You  distrust,  you  spurn  me,  but  I  shall  wait.  Time,  1 
believe,  will  help  me." 


330  MARVEL. 

"  Time !  Ah,  that  is  what  I  fear,"  said  she  with  a  quick 
shudder.  "  The  long,  long  loveless  years  before  me.  And 
I  am  so  young,  so  terribly  young.  All  my  life  lies  before 
me,  and  in  it  there  is  no  hope — none.  Death  comes  to 
the  happy,  the  well-beloved — it  will  not  come  to  me." 

"  You  are  well-beloved,  if  you  would  only  know  it,"  said 
he  with  emotion. 

"  Ah,  yes  ;  there  is  Cicely,  and "  she  paused. 

The  vision  of  Savage  rose  up  before  him  as  he  had  last 
been  seen.  A  man  impassioned,  half  desperate  with  a  love 
he  hardly  dared  reveal. 

"You  still  think  of  him,"  he  said  coldly. 

"I  think  always  of  the  very  few  who  really  love  me. 
Are  you  angry  about  that  ?  "  simply.  "  Do  not ;  I  felt  no 
love  for  him — ever."  It  was  impossible  to  disbelieve  her. 
She  turned  to  him  feverishly :  "  I  have  forgotten  him,  all, 
everything,"  she  said  impetuously.  "There  is  but  one 
thing  that  I  dream  of  day  and  night.  I  cannot  sleep,  I 
cannot  eat  because  of  it.  Oh  !  "  with  a  passion  of  despair, 
"  I  cannot  bear  it." 

"  Endure  what  ? "  asked  he,  made  anxious  by  her 
manner. 

She  paused,  and  then  came  nearer  to  him  on  tiptoe,  as 
though  fearing  she  might  be  heard. 

"  That  she  should  be  my  mother ! "  she  said  at  last  in  a 
panting  whisper.  "  She,  of  all  others  !  Oh,  it  is  horrible  ! 
That  she  should  be  my  mother,  so  !  It  is  killing  me  !  If 
I  could  only  wake  up  and  find  it  all  a  hideous  nightmare  ; 
if  I  could  blot  out  all  these  past  terrible  days,  and  feel 
again  the  glorious  uncertainty  about  my  history  that  I  once 
so  madly  fought  against,  how  happy  I  should  deem  myself. 
But  I  cannot!"  with  a  burst  of  misery.  "It  is  all  true, 
true,  TRUE  !  " 

"  Marvel,  have  courage.     Even  if  it  be  so " 

"  Always,  it  seems  to  me,  I  felt,  I  knew  it,  but  only  as  a 
child  might  who  could  not  reason.  Oh,  to  be  dead ! " 
said  she  in  a  little  cold  still  way  that  frightened  him. 

"  I  tell  you,"  said  he  angrily,  "  that  you  stay  too  long  in 
that  close  sick-room.  It  depresses  you,  and  with  all  the 
other  ills  you  have  to  bear  is  more  than  you  have  strength 


MARVEL.  331 

for.  If  I  could,  I  would  forbid  you  to  enter  that  woman's 
room  again ;  but  thou  ^h  I  am  your  husband,  I  know  you 
will  not  submit  to  me  in  even  the  smallest  n  atter.  Still, 
for  the  sake  of  old  times " 

"  Don't !  "  she  put  up  her  hands  to  her  head  and  pushed 
back  her  hair  in  a  little  distracted  fashion.  "  Don't  speak 
like  that.  Oh,  if  I  could  only  undo  my  wretched  marriage, 
if  only  I  could  feel  once  more  that  you  were  not  bound  to 
me  ! — that  you  were  not  my  husband  !  " 

He  bit  his  lip,  and  a  frown  settled  on  his  brow.  With 
gloomy  eyes  he  regarded  her. 

"  You  may  not  think  it,"  he  said  at  last,  "but — pardon 
me  for  saying  it — you  are  uncommonly  rude  !  " 

"  I  am  not,  and  you  know  it.  I  am  only  miserable," 
protested  she,  great  tears  standing  in  her  eyes. 

"  You  make  yourself  so.  This — this  unfortunate  story 
that  was  so  remorselessly  made  known  to  you,  is  a  secret 
between  me  and  you.  Why  should  it  not  remain  so  ? 
You  have  not  told  Cicely  ?  "  His  gaze  was  anxious  as 
he  asked  her  this,  and  she  saw  it,  and  told  herself  he  feared 
the  world's  comments  on  the  woman  who  bore  his  name — 
on  the  luckless  creature  whose  history,  if  once  known, 
would  bring  down  upon  her  the  scorn  and  contempt  of  all 
those  amongst  whom  she  now  moved  as  a  young  and 
radiant  queen.  The  thought  was  agony  to  her. 

"Do  not  fear.  I  have  told  no  one,"  she  said  coldly. 
And  then,  holding  out  to  him  her  hand,  "Good-night." 

He  bent  over  it  and  kissed  it. 

•'You  will  not  promise  me  then  to  go  to  your  own  room 
to-night  ? — to  cease,  for  even  a  few  hours,  your  attendance 
in  that  enervating  atmosphere  ?  " 

"  I  cannot.     My  duty  lies  there,"  she  said,  coldly  still. 

He  watched  her  as  she  moved  away  from  him  up  the 
lighted  corridor.  The  step  that  once  was  light  and  buoyant 
as  a  young  fawn's  was  now  slow  and  spiritless,  her  head 
had  taken  a  little  dejected  bend.  She  went  heavily,  as  one 
oppressed  with  a  grief  that  knew  no  assuagement.  She 
puzzled  him  almost  as  much  as  she  distressed  him.  What 
if  there  was  yet  another  and  a  worse  sorrow  gnawing 
at  her  heart  1  If  it  were  only  the  misfortune  of  her  birth 


332  MAKVEL. 

he  thought  he  should  have  been  able  to  comfort  and  sustain 
her.  What  if  she  did  in  reality  lament  her  marriage  with 
him — not  because  of  the  shame  attached  to  her,  and  that 
prompted  her  to  fly  from  all  men  and  bury  her  face  out 
of  sight — but  because  she  was  remembering  the  words  and 
looks  of  another — of  Savage  ! 

He  drew  a  sharp  breath  and  threw  up  his  head  as  this 
suspicion  crossed  his  mind.  Then  he  flung  it  from  him 
with  a  passionate  denial  of  the  truth  of  it,  and  turned  and 
went  away. 

Meantime,  Marvel  sitting  by  the  sick  bed  was  wearily 
recalling  that  anxious  look  upon  his  face,  and  torturing 
herself  with  the  belief  that  already  the  horror,  the  fear  of 
discovery,  had  entered  into  him.  Already  he  was  beginning 
to  learn  that  his  life  was  spoiled,  and  that  lesson  once 
learnt,  with  what  regard  would  he  look  on  her — the 
despoiler?  And  yet,  in  all  these  thoughts  she  wronged 
him.  The  anxiety  he  had  felt  and  shown  had  been  for 
her  alone.  Naturally  enough,  there  were  moments  when 
his  pride  shrank  from  the  cruel  fact  that  his  wife — she  who 
had  taken  a  place  beside  all  the  great  and  stainless  names 
that  had  made  up  the  lengthy  roll  of  his  ancestry — should 
stand  beneath  a  shameful  cloud;  but  all  his  sympathy, 
his  love,  were  with  her,  and  it  was  to  shield  her  from  cruel 
comment,  from  the  bitter  stings  and  wounds  of  the  world, 
that  he  had  enjo;ned  on  her  a  necessity  for  secresy. 

All  through  the  lonely  silent  watches  of  the  night  she  sat 
there  brooding  beside  the  half  dead  woman,  ministering  to 
her  now  and  then,  but  always  with  her  mind  embittered, 
despairing.  The  nurse  once  or  twice  expostulated  with 
her,  entreating  her  even  to  lie  down  upon  the  couch  at  the 
end  of  the  room,  but  Marvel  had  refused  all  entreaties, 
and  sat  there  speechless,  wakeful,  with  pale  set  face  and 
haggard  eyes. 

Now  and  then  a  moan  came  from  the  bed.  And  then 
she  would  rise  and  bend  over  the  sick  woman,  and  with 
gentle  arms  raise  her,  pressing  the  pillows  into  such  shape 
as  seemed  best  to  suit  her.  Very  seldom  as  she  did  this 
did  she  glance  at  her — some  strong  repulsion  with- 
holding her  gaze — but  once  or  twice  when  compelled 


MARVEL.  333 

to  look  she  met  the  strange  piercing  eyes  of  Mrs.  Scarlett 
fixed  on  her. 

"Is  there  anything  you  want?"  she  would  say  then, 
kindly  if  coldly,  and  the  answer  was  always  the  same — 
"  Nothing." 

Yet,  if  Marvel  stirred  from  the  bedside  she  would  grow 
instantly  restless,  the  moans  grew  louder,  and  the  poor 
tired  head  would  move  ceaselessly  from  side  to  side  with 
a  terrible  impatience,  and  the  face  changed  from  a  death- 
like calm  to  a  miserable  forgetfulness.  A  face  lovely  still, 
in  spite  of  all  the  anguish  and  the  strange  sleeplessness 
that  not  all  the  doctors'  skill  could  combat.  Great  hollows 
now  lay  beneath  the  wonderful  eyes  ;  the  lovely  cruel  lips 
were  bloodless ;  the  soft  luxuriant  hair  was  gone.  But  the 
beauty  that  had  lured  many  men  could  not  even  by  these 
means  be  altogether  killed,  and  the  wreck  that  lay  upon 
the  pillows,  silent,  motionless,  was  yet  a  beautiful  one. 

For  hours  she  had  not  spoken,  and  at  last  the  day  broke 
Marvel  stood  up  and  drew  aside  the  curtains,  and  gazed 
out  upon  the  slow,  unwilling  dawning  of  this  wild  March 
morning.  She  opened  the  window  softly  and  leaned  out. 
From  the  south  there  came  to  her  a  grand  refreshing 
breeze,  a  breath  from  the  sweetly-smelling  wind-blown 
fields  that  seemed  to  catch  her,  and  cling  to  her.  It  was 
heavenly  breath,  and  she  sighed  deeply  as  if  to  drink  it  in. 
Her  sad  heart  was  comforted  by  it  for  the  moment,  and 
her  dreamy  sensitive  nature  revived  beneath  its  influence. 

The  spring,  "  the  winter's  overthrow,"  was  slowly  but 
surely  "  coming  up  this  way,"  and  there  was  a  sense  of  life — • 
young,  fresh,  vigorous — in  all  the  air. 

Yet,  even  as  she  drew  in  that  sweet  refreshing  draught, 
grief  lay  in  her  heart.  She  could  not  shake  it  from  her. 
The  humiliation,  the  sense  of  being  not  as  others  are 
weighed  her  down.  Of  all : 

"  Life's  sad  mistakes 
That  sad  lives  see," 

it  seemed  to  her  that  hers  was  the  saddest. 

A  slight  sound  from  the  bed  startled  her.  She  closed 
the  window  swiftly  but  noiselessly,  and  went  back  to  her 


334  MARVEi* 

post.  She  leant  over  the  invalid  and  lifted  her  head 
as  usual,  shaking  up  the  pillows  and  then  laying  her 
tenderly  down  on  them.  But  when,  having  done  this,  she 
would  have  gone  again,  Mrs.  Scarlett  caught  her  gown  and 
by  a  feeble  hand  detained  her. 

"  What  is  it  ?  "  asked  Marvel,  compelling  herself  to  look 
at  her,  though  a  strong  shudder  shook  her  as  she  did  so. 
She  might  be — nay,  she  was — her  mother,  but  it  was  too 
late  for  love  of  any  kind  to  blossom  for  her  in  her  breast. 
"  Can  I  do  anything  for  you  ?  " 

"  Nearer,"  breathed  the  sick  woman  faintly.  Marvel 
bent  over  her  until  her  face  almost  touched  hers. 

"There  is  something  I  must  say  to  you "  The 

words  came  faintly,  with  a  terrible  effort,  from  between  the 
pale  parched  lips. 

"When  you  are  stronger,  better,"  urged  Marvel,  who 
shrank  with  a  sick  loathing  from  the  thought  of  discussion 
of  any  kind — of  confidences  or  regrets,  or  sick  bed  repent- 
ances— about  the  terrible  story  that  had  ruined  her  life. 

"  No  ;  there  is  no  time.  I  must  speak  now — or  never. 
Nearer,  nearer  still.  I  want  to  tell  you,"  raising  her  eyes 
that  burned  like  living  coals  in  her  wan  face,  to  Marvel's, 
"  that  I  lied  to  you  !  " 

She  half  lifted  herself  in  the  bed,  and  clutched  the  girl 
by  the  arm. 

"  There  was  a  marriage !  I  lied  about  it  to  revenge 
myself  upon  him,  Wriothesley ;  but  now,  with  death  staring 

me  in  the  face,  I — I  haven't  the  courage  to Yes,  we 

were  married  secretly,  but  surely.  There  is  no  doubt 
"  She  broke  off,  exhausted. 

"•Is  this  the  truth  ?  "  asked  Marvel.  Her  face  had  grown 
colourless,  her  voice  was  co!d  and  stern.  She  did  not 
believe  this  last  statement.  She  knew  that  she  did  not  dare 
believe  it.  Were  she  to  do  so,  only  to  find  herself  deceived, 
she  felt  that  it  would  kill  her.  No,  there  was  no  truth  in  it 
Such  joy,  such  an  almost  terrible  relief,  could  not  be  for  her. 

"  The  truth,  yes.  Will  you  not  believe  ?  Why  should  I 
say  this  now?" 

"The  proofs,"  said  Marvel  in  a  strange  frozen  tone. 
She  would  compel  her  to  end  this  cruel  farce. 


MAKVEL. 


335 


The  feeble  hands  made  a  movement  towards  her  pillows. 
"Underneath,"  she  whispered  faintly;  and  Marvel, 
always  as  in  a  dream,  ran  her  hand  under  the  pillows  and 
drew  out  a  tiny  bunch  of  keys.  In  one  of  her  calmer 
moments  Mrs.  Scarlett  had  asked  for  them,  and  had  placed 
them  herself  beneath  her  head;  now  she  had  not  strength 
to  draw  them  out  again. 

"  My  dressing-case,"  she  said.  She  pointed  out  one  of 
the  keys.  "  The  second  tray." 

Marvel  crossed  the  room  mechanically,  opened  the 
dressing-case,  and  lifted  the  tiay  she  had  named.  Some 
papers  folded  in  it  met  her  eye ;  she  took  them  out,  and  ap- 
proached the  bed.  Her  heart  was  beating  now  to  suffoca- 
tion. She  lifted  one  hand  to  her  throat  to  stifle  the  sob  of 
Dainful  excitement  that  rose  in  it. 

"  Open — read,"  said  the  dying  woman.  "It  is  my  mar- 
riage certificate  and  the  certificate  of  your  birth.  Keep 
them.  If  I  have  injured  you  living,  you  will  remember 
when  I  am  gone  that  I  served  you  dying.  Go.  Take 
them  to  him." 

Marvel  had  fallen  on  her  knees  beside  the  bed.  She  was 
trembling  violently.  When  presently  a  cold,  beautiful 
hand  stole  towards  her  and  touched  her  she  caught  it  and 
drew  it  beneath  her  bent  head,  and  pressed  her  lips  to  it  in 
a  passion  of  gratitude.  She  felt  faint,  uncertain,  frightened ; 
but  above  and  through  all  she  was  conscious  of  a  great  and 
glorious  freedom — a  breaking  of  the  vile  bonds  that  had 
chained  her  to  the  earth  and  turned  the  very  light  of  day 
into  a  sullen  gloom.  To  go  to  him  ;  to  tell  him  :  that  was 
her  first  thought. 

Through  the  tumult  of  her  conflicting  emotions  the  slow, 
broken  voice  came  to  her,  as  it  were,  the  touch  of  sorrow 
that  ever  accompanies  our  joy : 

"  You  said  it  once — that  strange  word — to  me.  It  killed 
me,  I  think ;  yet  I  would  hear  it  again." 

She  spoke  with  difficulty,  and  very  indistinctly;  but 
Marvel  understood. 

"Mother!"  she  whispered,  and  pressed  the  hand  she 
held,  and  stooping  forward  kissed  the  pale  mouth.  She 
felt  that  the  kiss  was  returned,  and  could  see  that  an  ex- 


336  MAKVEL. 

pression  of  rest,  of  peace,  fell  on  the  beautiful  face.  Sh« 
rose  to  her  feet  and  bent  more  closely  over  her.  Mrs. 
Scarlett  had  evidently  sunk  into  a  calm  sleep,  worn  out,  as 
Marvel  thought,  by  the  excitement  of  the  moment. 

She  summoned  the  nurse  hurriedly. 

"  Is  she  sleeping  ?  Will  it  be  safe  to  leave  her  for  a  little 
while  ?  "  she  asked  eagerly.  "  If  you  think  she  will  wake 
soon  I  should  rather  stay;  but  if  not " 

She  paused  for  an  answer.  The  woman  was  looking  at 
the  senseless  face.  She  knew  the  dread  sign  that  lay  on  it, 
the  last  seal  of  all. 

"  She  will  not  wake  soon,  my  lady ;  you  may  safely  leave 
her  for  awhile,"  she  said,  knowing  that  her  patient  would 
never  wake  again  from  the  exhausted  swoon  into  which  she 
had  fallen.  But  she  had  been  given  strict  orders  by 
Wriothesley  and  the  doctors  to  get  Lady  Wriothesley  out 
of  the  way  by  any  means  in  her  power  before  the  last  dread 
summons  came,  and  she  was  glad  of  this  chance  that  came 
to  her. 

"  Call  me  if  you  see  any  change,"  said  Marvel,  lingering 
still,  though  in  such  mad  haste  to  be  gone.  She  had  the 
papers  clasped  to  her  bosom,  and  with  one  last  glance  at 
the  sleeping  face  she  left  the  room,  and  sped  down  the 
corridor  to  where  she  knew  Wriothesley's  apartments  were. 

It  was  still  very  early,  and  only  a  few  of  the  servants  were 
moving  here  and  there  through  the  halls  and  passages.  As 
she  reached  her  husband's  room  she  tapped  impatiently, 
hurriedly  upon  the  panel  of  the  door. 

"  Who  is  there  ?  "  cried  he  in  a  rather  sleepy  lone. 

"  It  is  I,  Marvel,"  she  said.  She  could  have  cried  a^ud 
to  him,  but  she  compelled  herself  to  a  calmness  that  almost 
hurt  her. 

"You!"  His  voice  sounded  startled,  and  she  could 
hear  how  he  sprang  out  of  his  bed.  The  minutes  that 
followed  seemed  to  her  like  so  many  interminable  hours. 

"  Oh !  hurry,  hurry !  "  she  cried  at  last.  "  How  long, 
how  terribly  long  you  are  !  " 

He  flung  open  the  door  at  last,  and  looked  at  her 
anxiously.  She  was  so  white,  and  was  trembling  so  much 
that  he  went  to  her  and  placed  his  arm  round  her. 


MARVEL.  337 

"  She  is  dead  ?  "  he  said,  thinking,  fearing  that  she  had 
witnessed  her  mother's  death. 

"  No.  Oh,  no.  It  is  not  that.  Let  me  in  and  I  will 
tell  you  all,"  she  said.  He  drew  her  into  the  room,  and 
closed  the  door.  She  held  out  to  him  her  precious  papers 
with  hands  that  shook. 

"  Oh  !  read,  read  !  "  she  cried.  "  Oh !  Fulke  !  after  all 
she  was  married.  I  am  not  such  a  disgrace  to  you.  She 
was  really  married." 

She  broke  down  then,  overcome  by  the  nervous  excite- 
ment of  the  past  half-hour,  and,  sinking  into  an  armchair, 
burst  into  a  passion  of  tears. 

"  My  dear  child,  what  is  it  ?  What  has  happened  ?  " 
said  he,  apprehensively  terrified  by  her  tears;  but  she 
pushed  him  away  from  her. 

"  Don't  mind  me,"  she  sobbed ;  "  mind  nothing  but 
that"  pointing  to  the  papers,  "and  read,  read,  READ  !  Oh ! 
I  am  so  happy" 

"  Oh  1  are  you  ? "  said  he  a  little  lamely.  Then,  as 
though  giving  up  the  situation,  he  let  her  cry  on  con- 
tentedly, and  addressed  himself  to  an  examination  of  the 
papers  she  had  given  him. 

His  colour  changed  as  he  read  them.  Thank  Heaven 
for  her  I  was  his  first  thought.  As  he  saw  her  vehement 
abandonment  to  her  relief  and  joy  he  realized  morer 
thoroughly  than  he  had  done  before  the  overwhelming 
despair  that  had  been  hers. 

"Thank  God,  my  dear,"  he  said  simply,  but  earnestly. 
He  bent  over  her  and  gravely  kissed  her  cheek.  "  I 
thought  it  must  be  some  great  misfortune  that  had  driven 
you  to  me.  I  am  glad  to  know  you  would  come  to  me  in 
your  joy  too." 

"  It  was  not  so  much  that,"  said  she,  flushing  faintly,  "as 
the  knowledge  that  it  was  due  to  you  to  let  you  hear  at  once 
that  the  disgrace  you — you  felt  so  heavily  was  no  longer 
yours." 

Some  soft  reproach  in  the  tone,  some  little  undercurrent,' 
betrayed  to  him  her  meaning. 

"  Did  you  think  it  was  only  myself  I  pitied?"  he  said; 
"  that  I  did  not  feel  for  vou  far  more  deeply  than  for  any 

22 


338  MARVEL. 

annoyance  it  could  cause  me?  Why,  what  a  selfish  fellow 
you  must  think  me.  Perhaps,"  with  a  regretful  remem- 
brance of  all  those  months  in  which  he  had  virtually  de- 
serted her,  "  you  have  had  reason.  However,  I  shall  not 
scold  you  to-day,"  smiling ;  "  you  are  too  happy  to  heed 
me." 

She  laughed  in  return.  He  was  dressed  only  in  his  shirt 
and  trousers,  but  he  was  looking  very  handsome,  she 
thought,  and  very  friendly.  She  accepted  the  hour  as  it 
was,  though  she  had  small  dependence  on  the  constancy  of 
it ;  and  besides,  how  could  she  look  on  anything  save  with 
rose-hued  glasses  with  all  this  wealth  of  new-born  gladness 
in  her  heart  ? 

"If  I  had  known  you  were  coming,"  said  he,  looking 
round  at  the  rather  disorderly  room,  "  I  should  have  fur- 
bished up  my  belongings  a  bit,  and  put  my  best  foot  fore- 
most ;  but  as  it  is " 

"  Well,  certainly  you  are  untidy,"  said  she,  with  a  pretty 
air  of  contempt,  giving  a  dainty  glance  here  and  there  to 
where  books  lay  upon  the  floor,  and  to  where,  on  a  distant 
table,  a  box  of  cigars  were  strewn  about.  "  You  want  some 
one  to  look  after  you  more  than  anybody  I  know." 

"  Well,  that's  what  /  think,"  agreed  he  cordially. 

He  caught  her  hand  and  drew  her  towards  him.  A  little 
soft  blush  rose  and  dyed  her  cheek. 

At  this  moment  there  came  a  sharp,  hurried  knocking 
at  the  door.  Wriothesley  opened  it,  and  one  of  Marvel's 
women,  not  seeing  her,  came  quickly  in  and  spoke  to 
him  : 

"  The  nurse  bid  me  come  to  you,  my  lord.  Mrs.  Scar- 
lett is  dead.  It  was  quite  sudden  ;  she " 

Wriothesley  was  too  late  in  putting  up  the  warning  hand 
— Marvel  had  heard.  A  low,  gasping  cry  broke  from  her, 
and,  overcome  by  the  long,  painful  vigil  of  the  night  gone 
by,  and  all  the  conflicting  emotions  that  had  followed  so 
hard  upon  it,  she  sank  back  in  a  dead  faint  upon  the  otto- 
man behind  her. 


MAEVEL.  339 


CHAPTER  LVI. 

"What  they  could  my  words  expressed, 
O  my  love,  my  all,  my  one  ! " 

**  Time  shall  die,  and  Love  shall  be 
Lord,  as  Time  was  over  Death." 

MRS.  SCARLETT  was  buried  with  all  pomp  and  ceremony 
in  the  Scarlett  vault,  somewhere  in  the  heart  of  Surrey. 
Marvel  was  too  prostrated  to  accompany  her  to  the  tomb, 
though  some  morbid  desire  to  show  her  every  respect 
urged  her  to  do  it ;  and  Mrs.  Verulam  would  not  permit 
VVriothesley  to  go.  There  had  been  enough  of  gossip 
about  her  and  him,  she  said,  in  the  past.  Why  revive  it 
again  ?  It  was  only  a  boyish  infatuation,  of  course,  when 
all  was  told  ;  but  the  world  was  an  insatiable  monster  where 
scandal  was  concerned,  and  would  be  sure  to  say  all  sorts 
of  witty  and  wicked  things  if  they  heard  he  had  gone  (as 
"chief  mourner"  they  would  have  called  it)  to  her  funeral 
Why  should  he  betray  a  deeper  interest  in  her  than  all 
those  other  thousand  and  one  acquaintances  who  were  too 
overburdened  by  the  cares  of  society  to  attend  to  her  last 
resting-place  the  queen  to  whom  they  had  paid  such  slavish 
court  when  she  was  living  ? 

There  was  a  sense  of  disgust  and  hatred  towards  the 
dead  woman  in  Wriothesley's  breast  that  would  not  be 
subdued,  and  that  helped  him  to  acquiesce  in  Mrs.  Veru- 
lam's  decision.  Her  treatment  of  the  poor  child  who  now 
in  her  darkened  chamber  was  lying,  suffering  horribly  from 
nervous  headache,  angered  him  against  her,  harmless  now 
for  ever  though  she  was,  and  made  him  bitterly  self-con- 
temptuous as  he  remembered  how,  for  her  worthless  sake, 
he  had  once  cruelly  hurt  and  offended  the  sweet  nature  of 
his  wife. 

When  the  nervous  attack  wore  itself  off  in  due  time, 
Marvel  insisted  on  going  into  deep  mourning,  and  then  of 
course  it  was  necessary  to  take  Cicely  into  their  confi- 
dence. She  had  a  theory  that  to  be  astonished  at  anything 
this  age  could  show,  argued  a  weakening  intellect ;  but  for 


340  MARVEL. 

once  in  her  life  she  had  to  acknowledge  herself  as  entirely 
and  stupidly  amazed  on  hearing  of  Marvel's  parentage. 

She  it  was,  however,  who  at  once  saw  the  necessity  of 
enlightening  the  world  about  it.  It  was  impossible  that 
Marvel  should  be  allowed  to  live  for  ever  with  a  stigma 
resting  on  her  name — a  cloud  of  mystery  surrounding  her. 
Immediate  steps  should  be  taken  to  declare  her  real  origin, 
which,  if  it  had  a  rather  unpleasant  flavour  of  secrecy  about 
it,  was  nevertheless  honourable.  It  would  be  a  nine-days' 
wonder,  nothing  more.  Something  else  would  crop  up 
even  whilst  the  public  gaped  and  laughed  and  whispered 
over  it,  something  that  would  be  probably  more  piquante 
and  would  therefore  obliterate  it. 

But  where  should  Marvel  and  he  go  for  those  "nine 
days?"  That  was  a  question  that  troubled  Wriothesley. 
It  was  out  of  the  question  that  she  should  receive  and  be 
received  whilst  the  storm  burst  and  lasted.  He  would  not 
have  her  subjected  to  unkind  comment  or  impertinent 
curiosity ;  and  good  birth  does  not  give  good  manners,  and 
there  were  many  in  their  own  world  who  would  be  sure  to 
insult  and  annoy  her. 

To  take  her  away  for  an  indefinite  time — abroad,  any- 
where out  of  the  hurley-burley  of  society,  was  his  strong 
desire ;  but  how  to  compass  it  troubled  him.  She  had 
shown  such  a  passionate  determination  to  go  nowhere  with 
him  on  his  first  return,  that  he  hardly  dared  make  mention 
of  the  idea  again,  or,  at  least,  did  not  dare  hope  that  a 
second  request  would  receive  a  different  answer. 

And  time  proved  his  fear  true.  She  shrank  openly  from 
his  suggestion,  and  turned  coldly  from  him  when  he  made 
it,  with  a  distressed  expression  in  her  great  sorrowful  eyes. 

"  But  it  is  so  necessary,"  he  urged  gently,  battling  against 
the  sense  of  angry  disappointment  that  was  filling  him. 
"  The  truth  must  be  made  known,  for  your  sake,  and  ho\t 
can  you  stay  here  to  face  it,  to  be  asked  questions  by  the 
many  vulgar  people  who  yet  belong  to  our  set  ?  They  will 
not  spare  you.  They  would  spare  nothing  to  satisfy  their 
"  curiosity." 

"  If  Cicely  could  come.  If  we  might  make  up  a  party," 
she  said  faintly.  He  could  see  how  terrible  it  would  be  to 


MARVEL.  341 

her  to  be  en  tete-a-tete  with  him.  He  bit  his  lip  and  looked 
down.  How  could  he  argue  with  her — how  persuade  ? 
Pride  stood  up  in  arms  and  forbade  it. 

He  explained  to  her,  however,  that  Cicely  could  not 
come.  Cicely  whose  hands  were  so  full  of  her  own  affairs, 
whose  coming  marriage  occupied  all  her  time. 

"  Could  I  not  go  to  the  north,  then  ?  "  she  asked  timidly. 
"And  you,  anywhere  you  will;  time  would  pass  all  the 
same.  And  when,  as  you  think,  the  world  would  have 
forgotten,  we  could  meet  again " 

"  Oh,  no  !  I  entreat  you  do  not  incline  to  that  plan," 
he  said  earnestly.  "When,  during  those  first  months  of 
our  married  life  I  kept  away  from  you,  I  did  wrong.  I 
did  you  an  unspeakable  injury !  Let  us  not  repeat  that 
fault.  Do  not  give  farther  food  for  talk.  It  would  be 
madness  to  let  that  word  separation  be  so  much  as  named 
between  us  again." 

She  sighed  wearily.  It  was  indeed  terrible  to  her  to 
think  of  long  months  spent  alone  with  him.  Months  in 
which  she  would  feel  each  hour  of  the  day  that  he  was 
isolating  himself  for  her  sake,  that  he  was  growing  every 
moment  more  bored,  more  ennuye,  more  inclined  to  curse 
the  fate  that  had  bound  him  to  her.  The  whole  thing 
would  be  an  annoyance,  a  gene  to  him,  and  she  felt  she 
could  not  endure  it.  If  he  loved  her  she  could,  she 
thought,  have  let  him  make  any  sacrifice  for  her  sake,  but 
this  friendly  indifference  that  she  believed  he  alone  felt 
for  her  would  not  permit  of  her  doing  so. 

And  yet  he  had  already  done  so  much  for  her.  He 
was  so  kind,  so  thoughtful — there  was  no  one  like  him  on 
earth  she  thought — that  she  knew  she  should  not  have  the 
courage  to  combat  any  wish  of  his. 

"  It  shall  be  as  you  like,"  she  said  hopelessly.  Her  tone 
cut  him  to  the  heart. 

"Why  do  you  speak  like  that?"  he  said  very  gently. 
"  Does  it  make  you  so  very  miserable  to  think  you  must 
have  my  companionship  only  for  a  few  months  ?  My  dear ! 
what  a  sad  thought  that  must  be  for  both  of  us.  We  are 
bound  together  for  life,  and  yet  you  shrink  from  a  few 
continuous  days  spent  together.  Marvel,  look  at  me !  You 


34*  MARVEL. 

have  made  friends  of  others.  Why  not  accept  me  as  a 
friend  too  ?  Surely  I  am  not  beyond  the  pale  of  mere 
friendship  in  your  eyes?  If  it  were  not  for  your  own  good 
I  should  abandon  the  idea  altogether,  but  you  know  it 
would  not  do  for  you  to  stay  here — just  at  present.  You 
hate  the  idea  of  going  anywhere  with  me  I  know,  but  yet  1 
beg  you  to  consent  to  the  plan  for  your  own  sake." 

"  If  I  hate  it,"  said  she  tremulously,  turning  away  her 
head,  "  surely  you  hate  it  doubly." 

"  I  ?  No,  indeed.  If — if  I  could  be  assured  that  you 
loved  me,"  hastily,  and  trying  to  read  her  averted  face,  "  I 
should  find  my  chiefest  happiness  in  being  with  you  for 
ever !  Surely  you  must  know  that ! "  Moved  by  some 
sudden  inspiration  he  went  to  her,  and  drew  her  closely  to 
him,  and  stooping,  pressed  his  cheek  to  hers.  "  Darling ! 
Darling  heart ! "  he  said,  "  why  can't  we  try  to  be  better 
friends  than  we  are  ?  " 

His  tone  was  low,  unsteady,  but  warm  with  the  deathless 
breath  of  love  ! 

She  felt  it !  She  turned  to  him,  and  in  a  moment  was 
in  his  arms. 

"  Oh,  to  be  friends  again  ! "  she  cried.  She  was  sobbing 
wildly,  passionately.  "  In  the  dead,  dear  days  the  friends 
we  were  !  Oh  !  do,  do  try  to  love  me  again." 

"  My  sweetheart !  my  darling,  I  love  you  now,  as  I 
never  loved  you  then." 

"  You  say  it.  But  is  it  really  so?  Really  ?  Is  it  true  f 
Oh  !  Fulke,  if  I  thought  you  really  loved  me " 

"  I  do  with  all  my  soul ! " 

"  You  are  not  saying  it  because  you  think  it  will  please 
or  comfort  me?" 

"  My  darling — no.  Because  it  is  the  only  truth ;  because 
it  comforts  myself — and  you  too ;  say  that,  Marvel !  " 

He  raised  her  face  to  his. 

"  Oh  !  if  you  only  knew  !  "  she  said.  She  clung  to  him 
with  all  her  young  strength  in  a  very  passion  of  happiness. 

"  Well,  I  don't  know — you  forget  how  you  have  starved 
me  on  such  matters,"  said  he,  as  glad  as  she  was,  holding 
her  to  his  heart.  "  Tell  me  now ;  say  you  love  me." 

She  said  it  very  sweetly,  and  returned  his  kiss  as  she  did  so. 


MARVEL.  343 

"And  you  forgive  me  everything?" 

"If  there  is  anything,  I  have  forgotten.  And  you," 
bending  back  from  him  to  watch  his  face,  "you  don't 
really  think  I  was  in  love  with  Nigel  Savage  ?  " 

"  Oh  no,  no<  now  I "  laughing. 

"  Or  ever  ? >; 

"  Or  ever ;>     But  that  wasn't  quite  true. 

At  this  propitious  mstant  Mrs.  Verulam  burst  into  the 
room,  evidently  full  of  important  tidings. 

"See  here,  you  two,"  she  was  beginning  when  she 
stopped  dead  short.  "Eh?  what?  Anything  happened?" 
she  asked,  looking  from  one  guilty  countenance  to  the 
other. 

There  was  a  considerable  pause.  Marvel  looked  down 
and  played  nervously  with  her  rings.  Wriothesley,  who 
'-eked  decidedly  awkward,  at  last  broke  into  an  irresistible 
-a  ugh. 

"  We've  only  been  making  it  up,"  he  said,  rather  boyishly. 

**Ar.d  a  good  thing  too,"  cried  Mrs.  Verulam  brightly. 
"  Sut  you'll  have  to  rehearse  the  second  edition  of  it  some- 
where else.  I  see  Lucy's  carriage  coming  down  the  avenue ; 
she  has  heard  all;  she  will  have  you  both  in  to  cross- 
examine  you  about  Marvel's  romantic  story  if  you  don't 
clear  out  without  a  second's  delay.  No,  don't  go  into  the 
library,  she  is  capable  of  searching  the  house,  and  as  for 
locked  doors,  why  the  breaking  open  of  them  would  be 
mere  child's  play  to  her !  Be  wise,  therefore,  whilst  yet 
there  is  time,  and  there's  very  little  of  it,"  craning  her  neck 
round  the  corner  of  the  window,  "  for  here  she  comes.  Make 
for  the  orchard,  children,  and  hide  there  until  this  danger 
is  past ! " 

There  was  evidently  not  a  moment  to  be  lost.  Wriothes- 
ley threw  a  fur  cloak  over  Marvel's  shoulders  and  Cicely 
pushed  into  her  hand  a  little  fur  cap,  and  thus  equipped 
she  followed  Wriothesley  out  through  the  window  into  the 
brilliant  April  afternoon,  and  together,  like  a  pair  of  children, 
they  ran  hand  in  hand  to  the  orchard. 


344  MARVEL, 


CHAPTER  LVII. 

"  Love,  if  you  knew  the  light 
That  your  soul  casts  in  my  sight, 
How  I  look  to  you 
For  the  pure  and  true. 
And  the  beauteous  and  the  right — 

Bear  with  a  moment's  spite 
When  a  mere  mote  threats  the  white  I* 

ARRIVED  there,  however,  a  sudden  unaccountable  fit  of 
shyness  took  possession  of  Marvel.  Her  words  grew  into 
monosyllables,  and  she  walked  beside  him  demurely  down 
the  shady  pathways,  hedged  on  either  side  by  espaliered 
apple  trees  and  sweet  with  the  thousand  perfumes  that 
rise  to  greet  the  spring. 

The  warm  buzzing  of  many  bees  came  from  the  Mediter- 
ranean heath  in  the  corner,  and  the  barberry  bushes  too 
seemed  full  of  them.  There  was  a  delicious  sense  of  growth 
everywhere.  The  day  was  very  still  and  almost  warm ;  one 
of  those  lovely  capricious  afternoons  that  come  as  a  fore- 
runner of  the  summer  travelling  towards  us. 

Yet  Marvel  walked  with  head  down-bent  and  eyes  averted 
from  her  companion,  who  fain  would  looked  love  into  eyes 
that  spoke  again.  But  hers  said  nothing ;  and  it  seemed 
to  him  that  she  scarcely  answered  him,  that  she  seemed 
dead  to  the  strange  beauty  of  this  day,  that  to  him  ap- 
appeared  so  high  above  its  fellows.  Why  should  this  fanciful, 
cold  little  mood  have  caught  her  now  of  all  times?  In 
this,  wonderfully  happy  hour,  in  this  sweetest  of  all  seasons, 
in 

"  The  soft  awakening  springtime 
When  'tis  hard  to  live  alone  ?  " 

He  let  a  silence  fall  between  them  after  a  bit,  and  then 
he  looked  at  her  again,  and  then  he  laughed.  It  had  dawned 
upon  him  at  last  that  the  coldness  was  only  shyness.  What 
a  child  she  still  was ! 

"  I  believe  you  are  afraid  of  me,"  he  said  teazingly. 

"  I  am  not ! "  she  denied  with  haste,  colouring  vividly. 


MARVEL.  345 

"Why  should  you  think  so?  It  isn't  that,  only "  she 

hesitated  and  came  to  a  standstill  opposite  to  him,  and 
began  to  roll  a  pebble  beneath  her  foot  slowly,  thoughtfully, 
"only — there  is  something!"  she  said. 

"  Well,  let's  hear  it,"  said  he,  thinking  how  lovely  she 
looked  with  that  half  childish,  half  petulant  air,  that  sat  so 
sweetly  on  her. 

"  Oh,  no !    I  couldn't  say  it.     But " 

"  You  can  think  it,  whatever  it  is.  Now,  Marvel,  are  you 
already  beginning  to  doubt  me  again  ?  What  is  there  worth 
thinking  about  or  saying,  darling,  except  that  you  love  me, 
and  that  I  love  you  ?  " 

"Ah,"  said  she,  with  a  reproachful  glance  at  him,  "but 
you  loved  her  too ! " 

"  Well,  so  I  did,"  regretfully.  He  felt  now  ashamed  of 
that  old  passion  and  wished  with  all  his  soul  he  could  have 
blotted  it  out  of  his  memory  and  hers.  "  You  must  have 
seen  and  heard,  Marvel,  that  most  men  fancy  themselves 
in  love  once  at  all  events  in  their  lives  before  they  meet 
the  woman  they  really  do  love." 

"  You  didn't  fancy  it,"  remorselessly. 

M  No,"  abandoning  that  weak  corner,  "  I  did  not."  A 
pause.  "  That's  true ! "  A  second,  longer  pause.  Evi- 
dently she  was  not  going  to  help  him  out ;  and  he  felt  he 
was  hardly  getting  on  with  his  defence  or  acquitting  himself 
in  any  manner  that  could  be  called  satisfactory.  "  But  as 
I  love  you  now,"  he  went  on  hurriedly,  "  and  you  only,  I 
think  you  might  try  to  forget  it." 

"  I  suppose  so,"  dejectedly,  drooping  her  lovely  head  and 
declining  altogether  to  look  at  him.  "And  yet  I  can't 
bear  to  think  that  once  you  thought  of  nothing  but 
her." 

"  My  darling  girl,  why  won't  you  try  to  look  deeper  into 
it " 

"  Deeper  t     Oh,  if  I  did  that,"  eloquently. 

"You  would  find,"  eagerly,  "  that  it  was  a  mere  boyish 
attachment.  Nothing  in  it  —nothing,  I  assure  you."  Had 
he  indeed  forgotten  ?  "  She  was  ever  so  much  older  than 
I  was.  Old  enough  to  be  my  mother." 

"  She  was  not"  indignantly.      "  She  was  only  about  thirty- 


346  MARVEL. 

five  then,  and  you  were  twenty-eight  or  so— she  couldn't  be 
your  mother  at  seven,  I  suppose  ?  " 

"  No,  of  course  not,"  with  abject  surrender.  "  But  yet  if 
you  come  to  think  of  it,  and  if  she  were  alive  now,  she  would 
be  my  mother,  eh  ?  " 

"  That  has  nothing  to  do  with  it,"  severely.  She  turned 
aside  from  him  and  plucked  petulantly  a  budding  leaf  off 
a  raspberry  bush  at  her  elbow.  He  still  held  one  of  her 
hands,  and  would  have  drawn  her  to  him,  but  she  resisted. 

"  No !  I  won't — I  can't !  I  can  never  get  that  horrid 
past  out  of  my  head.  I  can  quite  fancy  it  all,"  she  went  on 
with  a  little  frown ;  "  I  can  positively  see  you ;  following  her 

about  all  day,  and  sitting  at  her  feet,  and Oh!" 

breaking  off  suddenly  and  blushing  scarlet,  as  she  pulled 
her  hand  out  of  his,  and  glanced  at  him  with  a  touch  of 
indignant  anguish  in  her  eyes.  "  You  needn't  deny  it,"  she 
said  with  agitation  ;  "  it  would  be  useless.  I  shouldn't  be- 
lieve you  if  you  did,  because  you  know  you  used  to  kiss  her." 

"Only  once!  Once  only,  I  give  you  my  honjur,"  de- 
clared he  earnestly. 

"Once!" 

"  I'll  swear  to  it,  if  you  like !  It  was  one  evening 
when " 

"  Please  reserve  all  the  horrid  details ;  I  don't  want  to 
hear  them,"  interrupted  she  scornfully,  though  there  was  a 
sense  of  decided  relief  in  her  breast. 

If  he  had  only  kissed  her  on  one  occasion  there  could 
not,  after  all,  have  been  so  very  much  between  them  as  she 
had  been  led  to  believe.  Why,  he  had  only  just  told  her 
(Marvel)  that  he  loved  her,  and  already  he  had  kissed  her 
four  times !  Take  one  from  four  and  three  remains  !  She 
was,  therefore,  the  richer  by  three.  There  was  immense 
comfort  to  be  deduced  from  this  sum.  She  only  hoped  he 
was  telling  her  the  exact  truth.  She  cast  a  severe  glance 
at  him. 

"  Are  you  sure  ?  "  she  asked  sternly. 

"  Positive.  I  remember  it,"  impressively,  being  very 
anxious  to  convince  her,  "as  if  it  only  happened  yester- 
day. I  assure  you,"  with  growing  warmth,  "  I'm  not  at  all 
likely  to  forget  it ! " 


MARVEL.  347 

"  Oh  ! "  The  clearly  pronounced  monosyllable  showed 
him  his  mistake  in  no  time.  "  Are  you  not  indeed  ! "  she 
went  on  with  a  withering  intonation.  "  It  must  have  been 
quite  a  remarkable  thing  of  its  kind  to  have  made  so  lasting 
an  impression." 

"  I  don't  see  why  you  need  take  it  like  that,"  said  he 
miserably.  "And,  considering  how  well  you  know  that  I 
arn  now  entirely  yours,  I  think  you  ought  not  to  mind  so 
much  about  it." 

"  You  minded  a  great  deal  when  you  thought,  or  pretended 
to  think,  that  I  was  in  love  with  poor  Nigel  Savage ! " 

"  That  was  a  different  affair  entirely.  You  were  married 
to  me  then  ! " 

"And  were  you  not  married  to  me  that  day  on  board  the 
yacht  when  I  found  you  in  such  depths  of  grief  over  that 
newspaper  ? " 

"  Well,  but  so  very  little  married,"  said  he. 

She  struggled  with  herself  for  a  moment,  and  then  broke 
into  sudden  laughter,  sweet  and  fresh  as  the  rippling  of 
mountain  streamlets.  Such  a  laugh !  merry,  delicious,  and, 
above  all  things,  young!  He  started  as  he  heard  it  Tc 
him  it  seemed  new,  yet  old;  a  revelation,  yet  sounding  lik: 
something  long  remembered  but  lost  for  time  uncountable. 
Never,  during  all  these  late  months,  had  he  heard  it,  but  it 
brought  back  to  him  now,  on  the  instant,  the  old  days- 
calm  and  untroubled — at  The  Towers ;  and  once  again  he 
saw  her,  as  the  child  she  then  was,  running  down  the  marble 
steps  and  welcoming  him  home  with  all  a  child's  joyous 
abandon.  Again  he  seemed  to  feel  the  clinging  of  her  soft 
arm  around  his  neck,  and  the  innocent  kiss  she  had  pressed 
upon  his  lips !  If  then  he  had  but  known  ! 

How  was  it  he  had  then  never  noticed  the  exquisite 
gaiety  of  the  laugh  that  now  thrilled  him  through  and 
through? — now,  when  she  stood  a  little  aloof  from  him, 
and  kept  the  loving  arms  discreetly  by  her  sides,  and  when 
her  dainty  lips  looked  more  made  to  mock  than  kiss.  Well, 
he  hadn't  loved  her  then  !  In  that  the  secret  lay. 

Truly,  love  of  all  magicians  is  the  most  wonderful ! 

He  was  glad  to  hear  those  merry  sounds  come  from  her 
parted  lips.  They  assured  him  that  the  old  free  happy 


348  MARVEL. 

spirit  that  used  to  be  hers  was  not  altogether  as  dead  within 
her  as  he  had  begun  to  fear  during  these  past  mournful 
weeks.  She  had  not  once  laughed  so  since  their  marriage 
morning,  but  now  he  knew  that  she  only  wanted  love  and 
sympathy,  and  tender  care  from  him,  to  bring  back  the 
dimpling  smiles  to  her  cheeks  and  brightness  to  her  lips. 
It  was  with  a  quick  sense  of  delight  that  he  knew  now  that 
on  this,  the  first  day  of  their  acknowledged  attachment — each 
for  each — the  old  sweet  laughter  had  re-arisen  to  her  lips. 

He  caught  both  her  hands,  and  lifting  them,  pressed  his 
lips  caressingly  to  the  pretty  pink  palms. 

"  Marvel,  tell  me,"  he  pleaded,  "  when  you  will  come 
away  with  me — when  you  will  trust  yourself  to  me.  I 
shall  not  believe  you  have  forgiven  that  luckless  past  till 
then." 


CHAPTER  LVIII. 

"  Sweet  for  a  little  even  to  fear,  and  sweet, 
O  love,  to  lay  down  fear  at  love's  fair  feet." 

"  SURELY  there  is  plenty  of  time  to  think  of  that,"  said 
she,  blushing  softly  and  smiling  more  softly  still. 

"  Not  so  much,  if  you  would  escape  several  severe  cross- 
examinations.  And  besides,  why  not  come  at  once  ?  To- 
morrow we  might  start.  Eh  ?  " 

"Why  not  say  now,  this  instant?"  retorted  she  saucily. 
"  Have  I  nothing  to  do,  think  you,  kind  sir,  but  to  follow  you 
at  a  second's  notice,  barefooted  through  the  world." 

"  Not  barefooted,  surely." 

"Very  nearly  so,  at  all  events.  I  have  clothes  to  get — 
to  pack.  No,  I  could  not  be  ready  for  some  days  to  come." 

"  That,"  reproachfully,  "  was  not  how  you  answered  me 
when  first  I  asked  you  to  marry  me." 

"  Things  are  different  now,"  said  she,  with  a  pretty  arch 
glance  at  him. 

"  They  are,  indeed,"  cried  he.  He  caught  her  suddenly 
and  drew  her  into  his  embrace,  and  kissed  her  with  all  the 
tender  passion  of  a  lover.  "You  are  mine  indeed,  now, 
because  you  love  me.  Don't  you,  Marvel  ?  Say  it  again." 


MAKVEL. 


349 


"  You  know  it,"  she  said  sweetly. 

"  My  darling !  I  wish  I  were  younger,  for  your  sake.  To 
be  eleven  years  older  than  you  is  a  terrible  thing.  It  does 
sound  badly,  doesn't  it  now  ?  I  daresay  you  regard  me  as 
quite  an  old  fellow  if  the  truth  were  known.  Come,  con- 
fess now." 

"  I  don't  know  how  I  regard  you.  I  only  know  I  would 
not  have  you  a  day  older  or  a  day  younger  than  you  are. 
I  would  not  have  you  changed  in  any  way.  Does  that 
content  you  ?  " 

"If  I  were  not  contented  to-day,  I  should  indeed  be  a 
hopeless  case.  My  pretty  darling,  you  give  too  much  to 
gain,  I  fear,  so  very  little." 

"  Oh,  well,  if  you  think  I  had  better  consider  about  it," 
said  she,  standing  back  from  him  with  a  little  provoking  air. 
They  both  laughed. 

"  Now  name  the  day,"  said  he. 

"  One  would  think  you  were  proposing  all  over  again." 

"  Over  again  ? "  mischievously.  "  I  think  it  was  you 
who " 

She  laid  her  hand  upon  his  lips  and  flushed  hotly. 

"You  are  unkind,  you  are " 

"  A  brute  !  I  acknowledge  it  humbly.  But  see  how  you 
drive  me  to  it,  by  your  persistent  cruelty." 

"  Is  it  so  very  necessary  that  we  should  leave  so  soon  ?  " 

"Can't  you  see  that  for  yourself?  Are  you  willing  to 
run  the  gauntlet  of  a  thousand  inquisitive  eyes  ?  Could 
you  not  be  ready  on — Wednesday,  fo;  instance  ?  " 

"  Well,  if  you  insist,  I  suppose  so." 

"Only  because  I  insist?  Will  it  always  be  that  way? 
Have  I  only  to  insist  to  get  my  own  will  in  all  things  ?  " 

"  Yes,  until,"  with  a  little  nod,  "  I  want  to  insist  too." 

He  laughed.  He  smoothed  down  her  hair  with  both 
his  hands,  and  told  himself  with  fond  self  gratulation  that 
she  was  the  very  dearest  thing,  and  she  was  his  ! 

"  Does  your  youthful  fancy  still  point  towards  Athens  ?  " 
he  asked  her  after  a  pause.  "  Or  is  there  any  other  spot 
you  would  prefer  towards  which  to  steer  your  course  ?  " 

"  No,  I  am  still  faithful  to  Greece.  But,  one  word,  Fulke, 
it  is  now  my  turn  to  insist,  and  I  warn  you,  once  for  all,  that 


350  MARVEL. 

on  board  that  yacht  of  yours  I  will  not  set  my  foot.    I  hate  it  1 
In  my  opinion  it" — she  lowered  her  voice — "is  unlucky." 

"  You  couldn't  set  your  foot  there  even  if  you  would. 
I,  too,  took  such  a  hatred  to  it  that  I  sold  it  the  instant  I 
touched  English  ground.  But  I  have  another  now — a  bigger, 
finer  one ;  a  smart  sailer,  a  regular  beauty,  which " 

"  No,  no,  no :  they  are  all  alike,  and  they  would  remind 
me  of —  "  she  paused — "  what  I  wish  forgotten.  I  will  go 
with  you  to  Greece,  to  the  North  Pole  if  you  will,  by  train  or 
sledge  or  anything  else  you  like,  but  not  by  sea." 

"  As  you  will,  sweetheart.  And  on  Wednesday,  then,  you 
will  be  ready  ?  " 

"  Ready —  "  she  hesitated  and  looked  away  from  him  a 
little  shyly,  "  and  willing,"  she  murmured  in  a  low  voice. 

This  assurance,  so  sweet,  so  exquisitely  satisfactory, 
received  its  just  reward. 

"  When  we  have  done  Greece  we  can  go  farther  and " 

"  Fare  worse,  perhaps." 

"  Hardly  that.  It  is  evident  you  know  little  of  that 
classic  land.  What  I  mean  is  that  there  will  be  no  need 
for  us  to  return  home  in  a  hurry." 

"  There  will  be  Cicely's  marriage  ?  " 

"  That  comes  off  in  May.  You  could  not  possibly  be 
back  in  time  for  that,  you  silly  child." 

"  She  will  be  quite  an  old  married  woman  then,"  with  a 
sigh,  "  before  I  see  her  again." 

"Well,  so  will  you;  console  yourself  with  that  thought." 

" And  you"  said  she,  with  a  charming  impertinence, 
"  when  I'm  old  what  will  you  be  I  should  like  to  know  ?  " 

"  Older,"  undauntedly. 

"  Oh,  yes,  by  a  month  or  so  perhaps.     I  like  that." 

"  If  you  are  going  to  throw  my  years  in  my  teeth,  if  you 
are  going  to  mock  my  hoary  locks,  I  warn  you  betimes,  Lady 
Wriothesiey,  that  there  will  be " 

"  Battle,  murder  and  sudden  death !  Go  to,  you  foolish 
old  man,  do  you  think  you  would  have  strength  to  fight  with 
me  ?  Oh,  Fulke  !  do  you  remember  when  you  used  to  teach 
me  cricket,  and  how  horribly  frightened  I  used  to  be  about 
the  balls  ?  What  a  long  time  ago  it  seems  now,"  she  sighed 
"  and  what  a  happy  time  it  was." 


MAKVKL  351 

"  Do  you  regret  it  ?  "  asked  he  with  such  evident  anxiety 
that  she  turned  to  him  and  smiled. 

"  Oh,  no.  Happy  as  it  was  this  is  still  happier,"  she  said, 
"  only — I  wish  auntie  could  see  us  now." 

What  a  faithful  soul,  thought  he,  as  he  looked  with  ever- 
increasing  love  into  the  large  wistful  eyes  upraised  to  his. 

"  Do  you  know,"  she  went  on,  "  when  I  am  very  miserable 
or  very  happy  my  mind  always  runs  back  to  my  earliest 
days.  You  will  say  it  is  impossible  I  should  remembei 
that  first  strange  awful  night  when  I  entered  your  home, 
yet  it  seems  to  me  always  as  if  I  did  recollect,  as  if  I  could 
see  myself,  dreamwise,  standing  wet,  cold,  disconsolate,  out- 
side the  window." 

"  I  at  least  can  recollect,"  said  he.  "  I  am  glad  now  to 
think  that  it  was  /  who  heard  you,  who  found  you  as  it  were, 
and  drew  you  in  and  rescued  you  from  that  cruel  storm." 

"  Afterwards  you  rescued  me  from  a  worse  storm  still — 
the  storm  of  life."  Heavy  tears  rose  to  her  eyes.  "  How 
could  I,  nameless,  have  battled  with  it,  had  not  you  given 
me  your  name  ?  Oh !  I  have  much  to  be  thankful  for." 

"  So  have  I,  to-day.  I  confess  I  didn't  think  so  yesterday. 
But  if  you  keep  that  little  mournful  look  on  your  lovely 
face  I  shan't  believe  that  you  are  thankful  Marvel,  darling, 
don't  dwell  so  much  on  the  past." 

"  Marvel !  That  is  not  my  name.  Did  you  not  see 
by  one  of  the  papers  that  I  was  christened  Margaret  ?  That 
must  have  degenerated  into  Meg,  because  you  remember 
how  I  would  say  only  '  M'g '  when  first  I  came  to  you  ?  That 
must  have  been  baby  language  for  Meg." 

"  I  don't  care,"  said  he  decisively.  "  Marvel  you  have 
been  to  me — and  as  Marvel  I  have  thought  of  you  for  so 
many  years  that  Marvel  you  shall  remain  to  me  for  ever." 


CHAPTER  LIX. 

"  Mine  own  heart's  lady  with  no  gainsay  ings, 
You  shall  be  always  wholly  till  I  die.'f 

THE  world  was  indeed  smitten  with  amazement  when  the 
truth  was  made  public.     Her  birth  being  proved,  and  the 


35*  MABVEL. 

fact  established  beyond  dispute  that  she  was  lin  reality 
the  daughter  of  Leonie  Scarlett,  made  Marvel  one  of  the 
greatest  heiresses  in  England.  All  her  mother's  money  (an 
enormous  fortune  left  by  Mr.  Scarlett  unreservedly  to  his 
wife)  fell  to  her,  and  helped  in  a  great  measure  to  stem  the 
torrent  of  scandal  that  is  always  only  too  eager  to  rise,  rush 
onward,  and  crush  whatever  conies  in  its  way. 

It  seemed  to  the  world  that  it  was  a  rather  amusing 
thing  that  Wriothesley  should  have  first  loved  the  mother, 
then  married  the  daughter;  but  the  knowledge  that  he  and 
his  wife  were  richer  than  most  bowed  low  the  heads  of 
Mammon's  worshippers.  After  all  it  was  but  a  young 
man's  folly ;  there  had  been  nothing  on  which  to  look  back 
with  shame  in  that  first  wild  impulsive  passion  ;  and  when 
it  had  died  it  had  left  no  sting  behind  it. 

Cicely's  marriage  was  a  small  astonishment  to  her  friends. 
She  had  been  so  determined  never  again  to  enter  into  the 
bonds  of  matrimony  that  when  she  gave  herself  to  Sir 
George,  "  the  last  man  likely  to  suit  her,"  according  to  her 
intimates,  everybody  lifted  his  and  her  brows  in  mute 
amazement. 

It  was  a  keen  disappointment  to  her  that  Marvel  could 
not  be  at  her  wedding,  and  she  proposed  once  or  twice  to 
put  off  that  important  event  until  she  should  have  returned 
home.  But  Wriothesley  negatived  the  proposal ;  and  indeed 
if  she  had  postponed  her  marriage  until  the  Wriothesleys 
came  back,  she  would  have  had  to  wait  a  considerable  time. 

It  was  quite  twelve  months  from  the  day  of  their  departure 
before  they  returned  to  The  Towers.  It  was  once  again  the 
merry  spring  time,  and  all  the  village  was  decorated  with 
flags  and  wreaths  in  honour  of  their  home-coming.  The  sun 
was  shining  with  a  brilliancy  that  lit  up  the  grand  old  house, 
and  threw  tender  gleams  athwart  the  budding  branches  in 
the  silent,  sweetly-smelling  woods,  as  they  drove  through 
them  by  the  private  carriage-way  that  led  direct  to  the  house 
from  the  station. 

Marvel,  as  she  drew  near,  gazed. intently  at  the  first  home 
she  could  remember,  and  a  sense  of  passionate  gladness  rose 
within  her.  As  she  looked,  a  tall  gaunt  form  came  out  upon 
the  doorsteps  and  waved  a  welcome  to  her.  It  was  the 


MARVEL 


353 


rector,  Mr.  Bainbridge,  her  old,  true  friend.  Tears  started 
to  her  eyes,  and  she  scarcely  waited  for  the  carriage  to  draw 
up  before  she  sprang  to  the  ground  and  hastened  to  him. 
With  a  little  loving  cry,  that  changed  in  a  moment  the  beauti- 
ful woman  he  looked  at  into  the  child  he  had  known  and 
adored,  she  threw  her  arms  round  his  neck  and  embraced 
him  fondly. 

"  My  dear  child  !  My  dear  girl !  "  said  he  with  some 
agitation.  He  held  her  back  from  him.  "So  it  is  well 
with  you  ?  "  he  said  softly. 

"  So  well ! "  she  answered  him,  her  clear  eyes  fixed  on 
his,  and  then,  "  How  long  it  seems  since  last  we  met !  But 
I  would  not  come  to  you  when  I  was  in  trouble  and  per- 
plexed. I  waited,  and  now,  when  I  am  so  happy  that  I 
almost  fear  to  think  of  it,  now  I  come  back  to  you,  and  all 
that  has  my  first  and  warmest  love.  And  I  do  not  come 
alone  ! " — she  turned  and  beckoned  to  a  woman  who  stood 
behind  her  with  something,  apparently  very  precious,  in  her 
arms — "  see,  see  what  I  have  brought  you  !  "  She  lifted  the 
precious  something  from  the  woman's  hold  and  laid  it  in 
Mr.  Bainbridge's  arms. 

It  was  a  baby.  But  something  more  than  that  too,  as 
one  could  see  by  her  eyes — a  treasure,  a  jewel  beyond  all 
price.  It  seemed  strange  to  the  old  man  watching  her  to 
see  the  great  motherly  love  that  shone  on  the  face  that 
was  still  so  full  of  childhood's  grace. 

"You  knew  of  it,  of  course,"  she  was  going  on  gaily. 
"You  saw  it  in  the  papers.  But  what  you  do  not  know 
perhaps  is,  that  I  have  brought  him  home  to  be  baptized 
by  you.  Oh  yes,  it  was  very  wrong,  I  know.  He  is  quite 
six  weeks;  you  can  scold  me  by-and-by.  But  you  had 
married  me,  and  no  one  else  I  said  should  give  my  boy  his 
name.  And  I  hurried,  too ;  I  came  as  soon  as  ever  I  could." 

"  Too  soon,"  said  Wriothesley  anxiously,  who  had  come 
up  to  them.  "  See  how  flushed  you  are." 

"With  joy  only.  I  feel  no  fatigue.  How  sweet,  how 
lovely  it  is  to  be  in  our  old  dear  home  again." 

"Mr.  Bainbridge,  my  authority  is  a  poor  thing.  Per- 
suade her  to  come  in  and  lie  down." 

She  laughed  and  went  up  the  steps.     In  the  hall,  where 

2  ~ 


354  MARVEL. 

all  the  servants  were  drawn  up  to  bid  her  welcome,  old 
Bunch,  the  housekeeper,  who  had  been  her  one  friend  on 
her  strange  lonely  wedding  morn,  came  away  from  the  other 
servants  and  up  to  her. 

"  Oh,  my  lady,  this  is  a  joyful  day  for  me,"  she  said. 

"For  me,  too,  Bunch,"  said  Marvel,  with  the  sweet 
graciousness  that  marked  her,  stooping  -to  kiss  the  old 
woman's  withered  cheek. 

Indeed,  she  had  a  word  for  every  servant  she  knew  there, 
and  even  a  smile  for  the  strangers.  It  was  with  difficulty 
Wriothesley  at  last  persuaded  her  to  take  some  little  rest, 
so  happy,  so  bright  she  felt  and  looked. 

"  Remember,  Cicely  Townshend  and  Sir  George  will  be 
here  to-morrow,"  he  said ;  "  and  do  not  tax  your  strength 
too  far." 

Presently,  when  he  came  back  to  her,  he  found  her 
lying  on  a  couch,  with  the  baby  asleep  in  a  little  bassinette 
beside  her.  They  were  alone,  those  two,  who  were  dearer 
to  him  than  all  the  earth  besides. 

"  How  contented  you  look,"  he  said,  drawing  a  chair  close 
to  her.  "  More  so,  I  think,  than  when  we  were  travelling 
about  alone,  you  and  I." 

"Why,  naturally,"  with  a  glance  at  the  sleeping  child. 
"  Isn't  it  strange,"  she  said ;  "  when  we  were  alone  I  thought 
it  was  impossible  earth  could  hold  for  me  happiness  more 
complete,  and  yet  now "  She  paused. 

"Go  on,"  said  he  laughing.  "I  have  been  preparing 
myself  for  it.  I  know  that  in  the  days  to  come  I  shall  be 
cut  out  in  your  good  graces  by  that  small  person  over  there, 
and  am  trying  already  how  to  abdicate  my  throne  without 
loss  of  dignity." 

"  Oh,  Fulke ! "  she  said  reproachfully.  She  held  out  to 
him  one  lovely  slender  hand,  which  he  imprisoned  in  both 
his  own.  He  was  her  lover  always.  "If  I  thought  you 
meant  it  I  should  be  wretched.  But  you  don't.  You  are 
first,  you  shall  be  first  with  me  always.  Believe  that,  my 
dearest.  Nothing  could  dethrone  you." 

She  took  her  hand  from  his  and  laid  it  round  his  throat. 

THE  END. 


By  C.  F.  Keary. 

Herbert  Vanlennert. 

Author  of  "  The  Dawn  of  History,"  etc.     I2mo.     Cloth,  $1.25. 


"The  book  is  a  refreshing  one,  both  in  plot  and  style."— Public  Ledger, 
Philadelphia. 

"  Mr.  Keary  is  an  accomplished  craftsman,  who  knows  how  to  tell  a  story, 
how  to  evolve  character,  and  how  to  make  the  fortunes  and  fate  of  the  dwellers  in 
an  imagined  world  as  important  to  the  reader  as  the  fate  and  fortunes  of  his  neigh- 
bor in  the  world  of  sight." — New  York  Book-Buyer. 

"  It  is  an  interesting  story,  with  its  scenes  laid  in  England,  and  with  a  measure 
of  sentiment  running  through  its  pages.  Mr.  Keary  writes  very  pleasingly,  and 
his  plots  are  cleverly  constructed." — New  Orleans  States. 

"  A  thoroughly  English  story,  and  quite  interesting  from  every  point  of  view. 
Mr.  Keary  has  given  us  nothing  of  the  sensational,  but  provides  us  with  an  elabo- 
rate, well-matured  story  of  English  life,  with  characters  representing  people  of  art 
and  culture." — Eltnira  Telegram. 

"  '  Herbert  Vanlennert'  is  one  of  those  stories  that  come  like  a  ray  of  sunshine 
on  the  murky  literary  horizon.  It  is  the  history  of  a  young  man  who  is  not  one  of 
those  impossible  individuals  one  reads  so  much  about  and  never  sees,  but  is  on  the 
contrary  a  straightforward  narrative,  with  its  fictional  coloring  painted  true  to 
nature.  The  scene  is  laid  in  Europe,  and  the  reader  is  taken  by  fascinating  chan- 
nels to  various  parts  of  the  continent.  A  strong  tracing  of  social  realism  is  very 
palpable,  and  the  book  leaves  a  good  taste  in  the  mouth." —  Tribune,  Oakland,  Cal. 

"  The  novel  is  one  of  the  genuine  English  character,  both  in  form  and  spirit. 
There  is  a  bloomy  blush  all  over  it  that  suggests  the  ripeness  of  plum  fruit.  Th« 
reality  of  life  among  educated  and  cultured  persons  is  turned  into  a  deliciously  deli- 
cate romance,  with  actuality  all  the  while  furnishing  the  foundation.  There  is  a 
luxurious  content  in  reading  page  after  page  of  such  natural  scenes  and  actions  so 
naturally  told  by  one  whose  art  is  skillful  to  conceal  his  art  in  the  task  he  under- 
takes. Politics  furnishes  spice  in  the  combination  of  the  elements  of  the  tale, 
Oxford  studies  lend  their  adornment  to  the  grace  and  point  of  its  running  collo- 
quies, and  the  interest  of  financial  fortune  bears  its  vital  part  in  the  contact  of  the 
characters.  The  university  flavor  that  pervades  the  whole  will  prove  not  th« 
slightest  of  the  attractions  it  offers  to  readers  who  will  give  their  verdict  for  the 
completeness  and  finish  of  the  novel.  A  real  London  novel  it  is  from  the  first  page 
to  the  last." — Boston  Courier. 


J  B.  LIPPINCOTT  COMPANY,  PHILADELPHIA. 


By  Mrs.  Lindon  W.  Bates. 

Bunch-Grass  Stories. 

I2mo.     Cloth,  $1.25. 

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in  these  tales  called  Bunch-  Grass  Stories.  They  are  the  work  of  a 
writer  who  observes  and  seizes  the  picturesque  traits  in  every  land 
where  fortune  happens  to  call  her,  and  her  travels  have  evidently 
been  many  and  far  away.  She  has,  likewise,  much  reading,  which 
she  puts  to  good  account  in  stories  that  impart  the  ring  of  truth  to 
classic  episodes. 


A  Blind  Lead, 

The  Story  of  a  Mine- 
I2mo.     Cloth,  #1.25. 

'"A  Blind  Lead'  is  certainly  a  powerful  book.  We  took  k  up  indifferently 
enough,  but  we  had  read  a  few  pages  only  before  we  found  it  was  no  ordinary 
work  by  no  ordinary  writer.  A  good  deal  of  skill  is  shown  in  the  drawing  of  char- 
acter. There  are  no  dull  pages,  and  the  interest  is  continuous  from  the  first  chapter 
to  the  last." — Boston  Advertiser. 


A  Nameless  Wrestler. 

12mo.     Paper,  50  cents ;  cloth,  $1.00. 

"  Her  story,  '  A  Blind  Lead,'  was  very  promising,  and  it  is  followed  by  an 
*x£remely  interesting  tale,  '  A  Nameless  Wrestler.'  Here  is  something  outside  the 
hackneyed  course  of  fiction — fresh,  strong,  fascinating,  dramatic,  and  wholesome — 
scenes  laid  in  an  unfamiliar  country,  though  our  own,  and  characters  human  enough 
to  be  all  the  more  interesting  because  touched  with  strange  traits  by  virtue  of  en- 
vironment."— Detroit  Tribune. 


J.  B.  LIPPINCOTT  COMPANY,  PHILADELPHIA. 


By  GEORGE   MORGAN. 

John  Littlejohn,  of  J. 

BEING   IN   PARTICULAR   AN 

ACCOUNT   OF   HIS   REMARKABLE    ENTANGLEMENT  WITH   THE   KING'S 
INTRIGUES  AGAINST  GENERAL  WASHINGTON. 

tamo.      Cloth  extra,  deckle  edges,  $1.25. 


"  George  Morgan's  style  is  strong  and  free,  intensely 
literal  and  vividly  poetic  by  turns,  and  he  has  prepared 
himself  thoroughly  by  knowing  the  scenes  and  studying 
the  historic  incidents  with  the  pains  necessary  for  a  good 
historic  novel.  'John  Littlejohn,  of  J.,'  is  a  tale  of  Rev- 
olutionary times.  It  opens  at  Valley  Forge,  introducing 
amid  lesser-known  officers,  Americans  and  their  French 
and  German  allies,  Washington,  of  course,  and  Hamil- 
ton and  Conway,  the  cabalist,  the  noble  young  Lafayette, 
Baron  Steuben,  and  others  of  distinction.  Out-and-out 
adventure,  intrigues,  with  their  plot  and  counterplot,  the 
romance  of  maiden's  love,  smoothing  the  horrors  and 
compensating  for  the  dangers  and  discomforts  of  grim 
war,  are  here  well  mingled.  The  story  ends  at  the  battle 
of  Monmouth,  in  which  the  treachery  of  Lee,  and  Wash- 
ington's one  recorded  oath  when  he  denounced  and 
insulted  Lee  by  the  word  and  sign  '  Poltroon,'  as  under- 
stood between  soldier  and  soldier,  and  by  his  superb 
presence  turned  defeat  into  victory,  are  told  with  spirit." 
— Boston  Evening  Transcript. 


"  'John  Littlejohn,  of  J.,'  is  a  story  full  of  originality,  of  vitality,  action,  and 
charming  bits  of  descriptive  writing ;  an  earnest,  able,  and  highly  interesting  picture 
of  the  American  Revolution  ;  a  romance  which  must  always  find  an  honored  place 
Among  the  comparatively  few  novels  having  a  background  of  American  history. 
.  .  .  The  style  is  a  wonder  of  crispness  and  of  a  kind  of  Shakespearian  happiness. 
The  spirit  is  remarkable,  as  is  also  the  fidelity  to  the  times,  to  place,  and  to  char- 
acter."— Philadelphia  Inquirer. 

J.  B.  LIPPINCOTT  COMPANY,  PHILADELPHIA. 


The  True  George  Washington. 

BY 

PAUL   LEICESTER   FORD, 

Author  of 
"  The  Honorable  Peter  Stirling,"  etc. 


With  twenty-four  full-page  illustrations.    Crown  8vo.    Cloth,  deckle 
edges,  $2.00;  three-quarters  levant,  $5.00. 


"  This  book  is  a  monument  of  industry." — New  York  Nation. 

"  This  is  a  wonderfully  interesting  book." — Buffalo  Commercial. 

"  Mr.  Ford's  book  is  rich  in  new  matter  which  commends  itself  as  interesting 
as  well  as  valuable." — Washington  Times. 

"  Mr.  Ford  has  delved  with  diligence  and  with  rich  reward  into  contemporary 
records,  correspondence,  and  traditions,  and  gives  an  entertaining  account  of  colo- 
nial times  and  of  the  personal  traits  of  the  Father  of  His  Country." — Chicago 
Advance. 

"Mr.  Ford's  book  is  important  out  of  all  proportion  to  its  size,  and  will 
probably  be  read  so  long  as  the  name  of  Washington  continues  to  be  revered. 
Brushing  aside  the  hysterical  panegyrics  of  would-be  biographers  and  historians 
as  well  as  super-laudatory  passages  in  works  otherwise  trustworthy  and  meritorious, 
Mr.  Ford  resolutely  set  out  to  acquire  real  knowledge  of  the  man,  George  Wash- 
ington. Few  of  the  other  heroes  of  history  could  pass  unscathed  through  an 
examination  so  thorough  and  so  rigid.  Every  attainable  fact  that  helps  to  show 
the  Father  of  His  Country  as  he  was  in  his  social  and  family  relations  has  been 
carefully  considered." — Boston  Evening  Gazette. 

"  This  work  challenges  attention  for  the  really  valuable  light  which  it  throws 
upon  the  character  of  George  Washington.  The  picture  which  Mr.  Ford  here 
draws  of  him  is  careful,  life-like,  and  impressive  in  the  extreme.  While  his  ex- 
haustive researches  have  resulted  in  humanizing  Washington  '  and  making  him 
a  man  rather  than  a  historical  figure,'  a  fair  and  intelligent  reader,  we  submit, 
will  arise  from  the  glowing  chapters  of  Mr.  Ford's  work  with  a  larger  conception 
of  the  character,  endowments,  and  equipment  of  the  first  of  Americans.  .  .  . 
The  work  embodies  a  surprising  measure  of  information  on  a  most  important  as 
well  as  interesting  subject." — Philadelphia  Evening  Bulletin. 


J,  B.  LIPPINCOTT  COMPANY,  PHILADELPHIA. 


By  Joseph  Hatton. 


WHEN  GREEK  MEETS  GREEK. 

A  Tale  of  Love  and  War.     With  ten  full-page  illustrations'  fly  B.  WRS» 
CLINBDINST.    Large  izmo.     Cloth  extra,  $1.50. 

"  The  present  story  is  one  that  is  calculated  to  stir  the  deepest  feelings  that 
enter  into  human  experience.  It  is  of  the  masterly  order,  and  therefore  will  confi- 
dently command  readers  even  while  inviting  them." — Boston  Courier. 

"Joseph  Hatton  has  written  many  successful  volumes  of  incident,  but  in 
none  of  them  has  he  given  us  a  more  stirring  romance  than  in  his  latest  novel, 
'  When  Greek  Meets  Greek.'  The  characters  are  drawn  with  a  skilful  hand,  and 
the  scenes  follow  each  other  in  rapid  succession,  each  teeming  with  interest  and 
vigor." — Boston  Advertiser. 


THE  BANISHMENT  OF 
JESSOP  BLYTHE. 

In  LIPPINCOTT'S  SERIES  OF  SELECT  NOVELS,    xamo.-  Cloth,  Ji.oo ;  paper, 
50  cents. 

"It  is  one  of  the  strongest  stories  of  the  year,  remarkably  graphic  in  its 
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and  equally  remarkable  for  the  character  drawing  of  the  real  men  and  women  who 
figure  in  it." — Boston  Home  Journal. 

"  The  author  has  depicted  clearly  a  true  socialistic  organization  on  a  small 
scale,  which  seems  as  though  it  might  have  been  founded  on  fact.  It  is  a  strong 
story,  extremely  well  told,  and  will  attract  attention  as  much  for  its  socialistic  idaaa 
as  for  its  romantic  features." — San  Francisco  Chronicle. 


CIGARETTE  PAPERS. 

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a  cigar.  The  illustrations  throughout  the  text  add  to  the  beauty  of  an  already 
attractive  volume. 


J.  B.  LIPPINCOTT  COMPANY,  PHILADELPHIA. 


By  Capt  Chas.  King,  U.S.A. 

Under  Fire,  illustrated.  The  Colonel's  Daughter,  illustrated. 
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in    Ambush.     (Paper,  50  cents.) 

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Laramie;   or,  The  Queen  of  Bedlam. 
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Two  Soldiers,  and  Dunraven  Ranch. 
A  Soldier's  Secret,  and  An  Army  Portia. 
Captain  Close,  and  Sergeant  Croesus. 

i2mo.    Cloth,  $i .00;  paper,  50  cents. 


"  From  the  lowest  soldier  to  the  highest  officer,  from  the  servant  to 
the  master,  there  is  not  a  character  in  any  of  Captain  King's  novels 
that  is  not  wholly  in  keeping  with  expressed  sentiments.  There  is 
not  a  movement  made  on  the  field,  not  a  break  from  the  ranks,  not  an 
offence  against  the  military  code  of  discipline,  and  hardly  a  heart- 
beat that  escapes  his  watchfulness." — Boston  Herald. 


J.  B.  LIPPINCOTT  COMPANY,  PHILADELPHIA. 


By  Marie  Corelli. 

Barabbas : 
A  DREAM  OF  THE  WORLD'S  TRAGEDY. 

I2mo.     Red  buckram,  $1.00. 

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England  and  America,  the  phenomenal  demand  for  the  work  still  exhaust* 
edition  after  edition  in  rapid  succession. 

"  Tragic  intensity  and  imaginative  vigor  are  the  features  of  this  powerful  tale." 
•—Philadelphia  Ledger. 

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bad  art,  and  gross  blasphemy  ;  but,  in  curious  contrast,  most  of  the  religious  papers 
acknowledged  the  reverence  of  treatment  and  the  dignity  of  conception  which 
characterized  the  work." — London  Athenteum. 


The  Sorrows  of  Satan ; 

OR,  THE  STRANGE  EXPERIENCE  OF  ONE  GEOFFREY 
TEMPEST,  MILLIONAIRE. 

WITH  FRONTISPIECE  BY  VAN  SCHAICK. 
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"  A  very  powerful  piece  of  work.    A  literary  phenomenon,  novel,  and  even 

sublime. " — Review  of  Reviews. 

"  She  is  full  of  her  purpose.  Dear  me,  how  she  scathes  English  society !  She 
exposes  the  low  life  of  high  life  with  a  ruthless  pen.  The  sins  of  the  fashionable 
world  made  even  Satan  sad  ;  they  were  more  than  he  could  bear,  poor  man  I  The 
book  is  lively  reading." — Chicago  Tribune. 


Cameos. 

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"  Marie  Corelli  possesses  a  charm  as  a  writer  that  perhaps  has  never  been 
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"  As  long  as  Miss  Corelli  can  write  stories  like  these  she  will  not  lack  readers. 
In  this  volume  she  gives  new  and  convincing  proofs  of  versatility,  spirit,  tender- 
ness, and  power." — Chicago  Tribune. 


J.  B.  LIPPINCOTT  COMPANY,  PHILADELPHIA. 


By  Marie  Corelli. 


The  Murder  of  Delicia. 

I2mo.     Red  buckram,  $1.25. 

"  The  story  is  told  with  all  the  vigor  and  command  of  sarcasm  which  are  pecu- 
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one." — Buffalo  Courier. 

"  Her  style  is  so  clear-cut,  keen,  and  incisive,  so  trenchant  and  yet  so  delicate. 
so  easily  wielded — so  like  a  javelin,  in  short — that  one  cannot  but  be  fascinated 
throughout  the  book." — Philadelphia  Record. 

"  A  more  powerful  invective  against  the  reigning  and  popular  society  evils  has 
rarelv  been  written,  with  so  fine  a  blending  of  the  elements  of  reproach  and  con- 
demnation, rage  and  pity,  sarcasm  and  pathos." — Boston  Courier. 


The  Mighty  Atom. 

I2mo.     Red  buckram,  $1.25. 


"  Such  a  book  as  '  The  Mighty  Atom'  can  scarcely  fail  in  accomplishing  a  vast 
amount  of  good.  It  should  be  on  the  shelves  of  every  public  library  in  England 
and  America.  Marie  Corelli  has  many  remarkable  qualities  as  a  writer  of  fiction. 
Her  style  is  singularly  clear  and  alert,  and  she  is  the  most  independent  of  thinkers 
and  authors  of  fiction  ;  but  her  principal  gift  is  an  imagination  which  rises  on  a  bold 
and  easy  wing  to  the  highest  heaven  of  invention." — Boston  Home  Journal. 


Vendetta  \   or,  The  Story  of  One  Forgotten. 
I2mo.     Buckram,  $l.oo. 

"The  story  is  Italian,  the  time  1884,  and  the  precise  stage  of  the  acts,  Naples, 
during  the  last  visitation  of  the  cholera.  A  romance,  but  a  romance  of  reality. 
No  mind  of  man  can  imagine  incidents  so  wonderful,  so  amazing,  as  those  of  actual 
occurrence." — Washington  National  Republican. 


ISSUED  IN  THE  LOTOS  LIBRARY. 

Jane. 

i6mo.     Polished  buckram,  75  cents. 

"  It  is  a  sympathetic  tale,  full  of  admirable  contrast  between  the  old-fashion«d 
and  the  new.'  —  Washington  Times. 


J.  B.  LIPPINCOTT  COMPANY,  PHILADELPHIA. 


By  Charles  Conrad  Abbott. 


A  Colonial  Wooing. 

A  Novel.     I2mo.     Cloth,  $1.00. 

"  Those  of  our  readers  who  remember  Dr.  Abbott's  '  Travels  in  a  Tree-Top,' 
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a  study  of  social  life  during  the  early  Colonial  period  in  this  section  of  New  Jersey. 
The  story  is  a  charming  one,  and  will  add  very  much  to  Dr.  Abbott's  literary- 
reputation." —  Trenton  True  American. 


When  the  Century  was  New. 

A  Novel.     I2mo.     Cloth,  uncut,  $i  oo. 

The  books  by  Dr.  Charles  C.  Abbott  which  appeal  most  intensely  to  our  hearts 
are  those  in  which  he  sketches  the  familiar  character  of  the  Jersey  neighborhoods 
he  has  made  his  own.  In  this  charming  novel  we  have  the  best  of  his  character- 
drawing  up  to  date,  and  the  plot  is  exceptionally  well  planned.  The  tale  deals 
with  our  forefathers,  and  is  therefore  in  the  vein  which  best  pleases  the  reader  of 
to-day. 

Recent   Rambles  I   Or,  in  Touch  with  Nature. 
Illustrated.     I2mo.     Cloth,  $2.00. 

"  In  the  literature  of  nature  Dr.  Abbott's  books  hold  a  peculiar  place.  With 
all  their  close  application  they  are  not  too  technical,  and  their  charm  for  the  general 
reader  is  the  more  potent  in  that  this  is  so.  We  all  love  nature,  but  we  do  not  all 
care  to  embark  in  a  study  of  ornithology,  botany,  and  zoology  in  order  to  appreciate 
it ;  and  in  this  new  volume  we  find  how  keen  our  enjoyment  can  be,  even  if  we  do 
not  possess  such  scientific  knowledge.  Those,  on  the  other  hand,  who  are  already 
students  of  nature,  will  be  fascinated  by  the  wide  and  accurate  information  gained 
for  them  by  the  Doctor's  numerous  tramps  and  multiplied  hours  of  observant 
idleness.  The  book  is  full  of  touches  of  humor,  unexpected  turns,  and  pungent 
sayings,  and  should  be  perused  by  every  one  of  our  readers." — Commercial 
Advertiser  (Detroit). 

J.  B.  LIPPINCOTT  COMPANY,  PHILADELPHIA. 


By  Charles  Conrad  Abbott. 

Travels  in  a  Tree-Top. 

I2mo.     Cloth,  $1.25. 

"  Mr.  Abbott  is  a  kindred  spirit  with  Burroughs  and  Maurice  Thompson  and, 
we  might  add,  Thoreau,  in  his  love  for  wild  nature,  and  with  Olive  Thorne  Miller 
in  his  love  for  the  birds.  He  writes  without  a  trace  of  affectation,  and  his  simple, 
compact,  yet  polished  style  breathes  of  out-of-doors  in  every  line." — New  York 
Churchman.  

Bird-Land  Echoes. 

Profusely  illustrated  by  William  Everett  Cram.     Crown  8vo.  ]  Cloth, 
gilt  top,  $2.00. 

"  The  birds  are  grouped  '  geographically'  and  not  '  systematically.'  He  has 
allowed  eye  and  ear  to  revel  in  what  the  wild  birds  do  and  say.  The  triumph  of 
his  spontaneous  art  in  writing  is  to  impart  to  the  reader  a  goodly  proportion  of 
the  love  he  bears  to  all  birds,  '  whether  they  are  commonplace  or  rare,  stupid  or 
entertaining,  gentle  or  vicious,  large  or  small.'  The  volume  is  further  enriched 
by  about  a  hundred  portraits  of  birds  from  the  skilful  pencil  of  William  Everett 
Cram." — Philadelphia.  Press. 

The  Birds  About  Us. 

Illustrated.     Crown  8vo.     Cloth,  $2.00. 

"  This  book  is  one  of  the  most  complete  and  interesting  studies  of  the  birds  of 
our  country  that  has  ever  come  to  our  knowledge,  and  must  be  valued  by  every 
lover  of  our  feathered  friends.  Its  style  is  familiar  and  genial,  and  it  is  not  burdened 
with  technicalities,  while  its  descriptions  are  perfectly  accurate." — Boston  Homt 
Journal.  

Abbott's  Bird  Library. 

THE  BIRDS  ABOUT  US.  BIRD-LAND   ECHOES. 

Two  volumes  in  a  box.     12010.     Cloth,  gilt  top,  $4.00. 


J.  B.  LIPP1NCOTT  COMPANY,  PHILADELPHIA. 


University  of  California 

SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 

405  Hilgard  Avenue,  Los  Angeles,  CA  90024-1388 

Return  this  material  to  the  library 

from  which  it  was  borrowed. 


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